Solangelo One Shots

Just look at the stars (au)

Nico's POV

From my perch on a small, stained armchair, the only one that lived in our cramped house, I could see the situation perfectly. My father, face cherry red with rage, screaming at my mother with a half empty can of beer clutched tightly in his right hand, other empty cans scattered around him in a disorderly fashion. My mother, meek and cowering, was huddled in a corner, hands covering her cheeks where I could already see dark bruises forming. My heart broke just a little bit when I saw my kind, gentle mother being yelled at by my father, who must have been at least fifty pounds larger than her.

"You can't do anything right!" I heard him bellow. My mother gave a small whimper. "All I ask for is one decent meal a night, and a cold beer when I get home. Is this too much?"

"N- no, sweetie," she stammered. "I just-" Before she could continue, my dad raised his hand again, and I averted my eyes, wishing I could also block out the cries of pain coming from my mom. When the sounds of beating had stopped, I peered through my fingers, only to find my dad staring right at me with cold, loveless eyes.

"And you! Boy! Get over here. Just because your mother messed up doesn't mean you get off scot- free. Get over here, now!" Legs trembling in fear, I pushed myself off of the chair and made my way over to my hulking father without falling flat on my face.

"Don't think I didn't notice the mess you made! After all I've done for this family, the least you can do is clean up after yourself." He raised a strong, muscled hand, about to strike him, but my mother grabbed his arm and pulled it down.

"Honey, please, don't do this. He's only a child." He wheeled on her.

"Oh, I'm not done with you. You just wait your turn." My mother gazed at me with big imploring eyes, mouthing run. My courage said to stay and defend my mom but when my dad turned on me again, hand raised to strike, my fight or flight response took over and I bolted out the door. I could hear his heavy footsteps pounding on the weathered wood of our house behind me, but he gave up when I rounded the corner.

I was already a block away when I felt safe enough to stop running. We lived in the poor part of New York City, and strange sounds echoed all around me. I felt as if the shadows all had eyes on me. Even so, I leaned against a brick wall, clutching a stitch in my side as I caught my breath. I could still hear my mother's cries of pain echoing in my ears like an awful sound recording that wouldn't stop playing. I needed to go somewhere to clear my head. Sighing, I stood up straight and started to walk, looking for any place where I could see the stars.

Will's POV

The baby was crying again, the puppy was barking and I was in the thick of the chaos, sitting in front of a mountain of extremely difficult homework from various honors courses that I had yet to do. The noise was making my head pound, like someone was smashing a hammer against the side of my skull.

"Will, can you clean up the dog pee?" My mother asked, carrying Lucy, our newborn baby, in her arms. My second youngest sister Charlie trailed behind her, clutching at her dress.

"Mom, I have a ton of homework," I groaned. "Can't Ben do something? He never helps." My mother pursed her lips, and I could tell from her expression that she was disappointed in my lack of interest in helping.

"Will, Ben is only twelve. You, being the oldest, have more responsibilities."

"But mom-" I began.

"But nothing, William. Please help. You know I'm in over my head here." Sighing, I got up from the table, our puppy jumping up onto me. I grabbed the cleaning solution and an old sponge from underneath the sink, which was filled to the brim with unwashed dishes. I didn't need her to tell me where the pee was. I could smell it.