Trigger Warning.
Tyler::Abused::
The brown-haired teen hits the old, splintered wood floor, blood trickling from his mouth. He can feel wood entering into the fleshy part of his left arm. The man towering above him sneers as his son.
"Get up, you pathetic waste of space" Tyler's father sneers, kicking his son in the back for emphasis.
Tyler whimpers, and struggles to his feet. Eventually he is standing before his father, blood trickling from his mouth and cheek where his father cut Tyler with his wedding ring. There's a green-purple bruise on his cheek, and one forming across his stomach. He feels nauseous, but he holds it back, knowing that, at the very least, he'll get slapped if he makes a small noise. Who knows how bad his father would beat him if he actually spoke up about it--or worse, if he threw up.
His father spots Tyler's blood on the floor. "Clean it up" he hisses. "And try not to ingest the bleach, dumbass" he sneers before he leaves, slamming the door shut.
Tyler lets out a choked sob and nearly collapses to the floor. He holds his stomach as he moves to the bathroom as fast as his battered body lets him. His arm throbs, but he ignores it, knowing it'll all feel better soon.
He just barely makes it to the toilet before he's throwing up the pathetic lunch the school provides. When he's done retching, he wipes his mouth and reaches under the cabinet for a rag and the cleaning supplies.
He spends the next twenty minutes cleaning his blood from the floor. He scrubs his hands clean of the chemicals before filling two plastic ziplock bags with ice. He places them on his stomach and face as he sits on his bed, his body in a dull, never-fading state of agony.
A knock comes from his window, but Tyler doesn't bother to look up as his friend enters through the always-unlocked window.
"Damn I came at the right time, this is the second time he's beat you today" the newcomer observes.
"Fuck off, Pete" the brunette groans.
"Aww, Tyjo, that's no way to treat your friendly neighborhood homeless thief."
"Pete" Tyler groans, pain spiking through him.
"Right, right" Pete fumbles for the bottle of pain medicine he stole from a local pharmacy.
"Thanks dude" Tyler says as Pete also produces a water bottle so Tyler can swallow the pills. "Once I'm out, could you remove the piece of wood from my back?" Tyler then passes out, slumping over.
Frank::Orphaned::
Frank sat on his hard, gray mattress that sat in a pathetic, rusty metal frame. Another foster family failure. He was brought back after only a week and a half this time, but this is nothing new. No one really wants to adopt a fifteen year old "Punk" or "emo" who listens to Green Day, Blink-182 and Muse on a daily basis.
Now, he's back in the crummy orphanage with moldy corners, splintered wood, and moth-eaten clothing. He was one of 38 orphans who lived here. Everyone here either had dead or imprisoned parents, or both.
"Aw fuck!" A voice shouts, and Frank turns to see his friend Pete climbing in through the broken window. His hand was bleeding from cutting it on a glass shard. He pulls a roll of bandages from his backpack and quickly wraps his hand.
"Smooth, Peter" Frank observes with a chuckle.
"Shut it, short stack" Pete fires back.
"How's Ty?" Frank asks, moving so Pete can sit on his practically stone-hard bed.
"He got the shit beat out of him again" Pete sighs. "He'll have one helluva bruise on his face. Passed out after I gave him some meds. He had a gash near his armpit where wood was stuck three inches deep. I had to remove it and stitch it up, but he was out cold."
"Shit" Frank sighs, running his hand through his hair. "Do we need to get him out sometime soon?"
"Definitely, it's getting really bad again." Pete answers, running his fingers through his short, bleached blond hair.
"Bring some stuff and he can stay here" Frank decides.
"Tomorrow" Pete ones before heading back out the window. "Put some duct tape over those edges, will ya?" He suggests before leaving.
Brendon::Neglected
Alone. Again. He supposes that he doesn't have it too bad. He's not beaten like Tyler, he doesn't live on the streets like Pete, and at least he has parents, unlike Frank.
It's not like they care though, Brendon's parents leave him to fend for himself, food, clothing, medicine. He does what he can, since his parents don't give a shit. He makes sure that his friends have a place to crash, eat and even get clothes if they need it.
That is, of course, when he's not being noticed by his parents. He's mostly just yelled at, or suffocated by the stench of nicotine, drugs, and alcohol. The rest of the time, it's like he doesn't even exist.
"Open your damn window, asshat" Pete hisses, rapping on the window.
"Finishing up your rounds?" Brendon teases, opening the window.
"Yeah, in crashing tonight, Sam is out of town again" Pete explains, dropping his backpack and pulling out the spare mattress Brendon kept under his bed.
"Go ahead, just remember that I'm waking you up so we can get the guys tomorrow for school." Unlike most people, Brendon, Pete, Tyler and Frank knew that their educations were their rides out if their shifty lives.
"Got it" Pete agrees, stripping down to his boxers and burrowing under the sheets on the mattress.
Pete::Abandoned::
As he tucked his body under the covers he thanked whatever entity existed that he, Ty and Frank had a friend like Brendon. They all depended on Bren to help them out. And of course, Sam and Rose, the awesome siblings who practically took Pete in three years ago. Sam works at a nearby bar from 9pm to 3am, and Rose works at a local pharmacy from 9am to 5pm.
They give Pete meds, first-aid supplies, food, and a place to crash. They also have to leave town a lot for some unknown reason, but they leave Pete a spare set of keys, just in case.
Pete was left on the streets when he was ten. Let's just say that, if it weren't for Sam and Rose, he'd be either in Juvie, dead, a druggie, or a gang member.
The Next Morning
"Wake up, asshat, we got friends to pick up" Brendon announces, soaking Pete awake.
"I'm up you turf, gimme twenty minutes to shower then I'll go get Frank" Pete says as Brendon grabs a first-aid kit and nods.
"I'll be back with Ty so he can shower, so hurry up" the glasses-clad teen calls to Pete, who has already entered the bathroom shower.
(A/N: Chapter o-point-five is down, chapter o-point-five part two ((with the other side)) should be up either tomorrow or Sunday evening.)
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Crossfire //Multiship//
Fanfiction-Tyler -Frank -Pete -Brendon *~* +Josh +Gerard +Patrick +Ryan ~*~ -Raised in..... unfavorable conditions, they grew up virtually alone. They made the choices (or choices were made for them)that got them to where they were.- From: -Abused -Orphaned ...
