Crossfire //Multiship//

-nightmares-

Suggested: Listen to All Time Low's "Nightmares" (in media).

⚠️Trigger Warning ⚠️
Tyler::Abused

"Frank, I can't" Tyler protests, skating his head.

"Why not? Ty, it's getting worse" Frank tries to reason with his friend in their free period.

"If I leave and go back, it'll be worse."

"Don't say that, it might-" Tyler cuts Brendon off.

"It always is like that!" He yells, slamming his fist on the table and attracting the attention of a nearby student. "It's always like that Bren" he repeats shakily, his voice breaking.

"Tyler, we have to do something" Pete insists quietly.

"What?" Tyler asks sadly. "Whenever I'm out longer than he wants me to be, I get beat. Each night I have to perform each task they assign me. Mom is either drunk off her ass or screaming at me. Face it guys, I'll have to wait."

Each boy tried to protest, but soon realized that Tyler was right -- they had to wait, at least until Frank was 18. For the past three years, the quartet had studied and poured over ways to get Tyler out of his abusive household. The only way that would keep him out of the foster system, a place arguably as bad as his parent's house, was to have Frank fight for custody. And that requires waiting. Four more months of waiting.

The bell rings and the quartet rises from their seats, Brendon walking Tyler to his next class, as someone always does. The four boys are a family, with Tyler being the youngest, the little sibling who had to be protected whenever possible. Sadly, protection was never available when Tyler truly needed it.

"I'll walk you home" Brendon promises, as he always does, pulling the shorter boy into a hug.

"See you in a little bit" Tyler mumbles before walking into his classroom.

"Hi, Tyler" a bubbly voice greets the brunette who is confused until he remembers yesterday and meeting Ryan.

"Hello Ryan" Tyler mumbles in response after a long moment of silence.  Thankfully, Mr Armstrong enters and they begin their last lesson of the day, English.

::

"Hey buddy" Brendon greets Tyler the moment he walks out of English, the taller brunette accidentally bumping into Ryan.

"Let me get my History and Geometry books and we can go" Tyler tells his friend, leaning into Brendon.

"Sure thing bud" Brendon agrees, steering the shorter brunette to his locker.

Once done, they meet up with Frank and Pete and they all head off into the slums of the city, their homes.

They joke and shove each other playfully and somehow Pete is on Brendon's back, hitting his shoulders and head with Tyler's History book.

"Ow you midget, get off of me!" Brendon laughs, throwing his hands up to protect himself.

"I'm not a midget Bren, Frank is!" Pete jokes, sliding off of Brendon, only for Tyler to climb on.

"Hey you assbutt!" Frank complains to Pete, hitting Pete's shoulders. "I'm not a midget!"

"Mhmm, sure you aren't" Tyler jokes as Pete unzips his bag and returns Tyler his history book.

"Screw off Tyjo" Frank grins, slinging an arm around Pete's shoulders. They come to the street where Pete and Frank go one way, and Brendon and Tyler go another.

"I'll see you guys tonight" Pete promises before going to with Frank.

"See ya!" Brendon calls and Tyler waves, slipping off of Brendon's back.

Before long, they reach Tyler's house.

"You'll be fine" Brendon promises, through they both know that Tyler won't be.

"Yeah, if anything breaks, I'll call you" Tyler promises, taking a deep breath and entering his home.

The lights are off, and the house is silent. Tyler takes the opportunity to work on as much of his homework as he can before his parents get home. That was his plan, anyway, until he entered the kitchen.

On the stove there was a sticky note and a cookbook. Tyler read the sticky note, which revealed that his parents expected him to make lasagna tonight and that his dad's poker friends were coming over. Meaning, if Tyler didn't screw up the lasagna, he'd be scot-free tonight.

::

In his efforts not to burn the lasagna, Tyler took the lasagna out a little too early. At first, he hoped his parents wouldn't notice, after all, it was cooked, just not all of the cheese was melted, that was okay, right?

Apparently not.

Tyler was unprepared for the slap that knocked him out of his chair at the dinner table.

"You worthless bitch!" His dad shouted as his mom watched, a sadistic smile on her face as she watched her shocked son get yelled at.

"If your mother and I give you instructions, you damn well should do it, and you should do it right!" Tyler's father roars, kicking his now fetal-positioned son in the back.

"I-I'm s-so-sorry" Tyler sobs, earning a kick to his head.

"Shut up" his father sneers, unbuckling his belt and glaring at his son.

::

A half hour later and Tyler's father is finally done beating him. His back is bleeding and bruised, but he is yanked off of the floor.

"Get your ass into your damn room" his father demands as Tyler's mother cleans up the blood from the floor.

The guests can't see the blood, now can they?

Tyler obeys and the next three and a half hours are spent sitting on the floor, leaned against the wall and sitting bed doing homework.

"Hey Tyjo" Pete comes in through the window as quietly as he can, sitting in Tyler's bed to prevent the floor from creaking and announcing his arrival.

"Hi Pete, I'll be fine" Tyler answers Pete's unasked question. He can handle lashes from a belt. Not comfortably or painlessly, but he can handle them. Pete hands Tyler the pain medication anyway and Tyler swallows them with water from the bottle Pete brought the other day.

"You'll be fine?" Pete confirms and Tyler nods his head.

"I'm going to bed."

Pete leans over and kisses Tyler's forehead in a brotherly manner and the two hug for a little bit.

"So goodnight to Frankie and Bren for me, 'kay?" Tyler murmurs.

"Sure thing bud" Pete promises, and he watches as Tyler turns off his lamp - the only light source in his room - and crawls under the covers, ready for sleep to take him.