the dumping ground // one shots

remember // drabble

so this book has had 10k reads which is absolutely mad, thank you to anyone who's voted/commented - it's very much appreciated!

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warnings - blood; character death

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remember me...

"ryan, son, you've gone too far, again. betrayed our trust, again." mike begins, staring down at the boy in front of him.

the younger of the pair narrows his eyes at the unknowing care worker, "i'm not your son." the statement goes unnoticed.

mike carries on his tangent with the same amount of bitter disappoint resonating in his eyes. it makes ryan feel sick.

he stops paying attention for a while, until that wretched word comes up again, "don't call me son." he glowers but is ignored once again.

"i just... i thought you were getting better," mike whispers into the air, letting the silence speak of words he could never truly say. they sit for seemingly hours before it is broken yet again, "let someone in, ryan. me, may li, chloe... you were doing so well." the care worker pauses, "was it my fault? have i been pushing you too hard? if it was, them i'm sorry, son. i truly, truly am."

that little word. it breaks him.

"call me son one more time." ryan snaps, standing up to level with the care worker. his threat hangs in the air like a lonesome noose as he makes a hasty exit, ignoring the worrisome stare that begs him to turn back.

remember me...

blood. blood. so much blood. it has always stained his hands metaphorically but, now? now he feels as it runs along the cracks in his palms. tracing the lines of his fate, warmth radiating from every small droplet. his stomach churns at the sight though he fights to look away.

"ouch!" archie cries, sucking in a deep breath. ryan lifts his gaze from where his hands lay and grants himself sight of the boy in front of him. just from glancing at his quivering form, anyone could see he was trying his hardest to be brave, to not cry. it was a commendable quality but not something ryan has the chance to ponder on. he hushes the boy gently before replacing his hands on the wound and pretending he does not feel sick to his stomach.

because there is still so, so much blood. running along the cracks in his palm- "ryan...? ryan? it's me, it's mike. c'mon, kiddo, let's get you inside, alright?"

a soft voice guides him away from the stares of his peers. their attention is not long on him, however, as archie wails in pain once more. ryan assures himself that he will be okay.

a comforting hands cups his elbow as he is led away. it is not long before his hands have been washed of all the blood and he is fidgeting with them on a sofa. he decides not to question why he cannot remember sitting down there.

the warm body next to him draws him in like a moth to a flame. ryan rests his aching head onto a firm shoulder and allows himself, just once, to be comforted without resistance or embarrassment.

"it's okay... shh- shh, i know. i know, kiddo. i know you can't help it," mike whispers, squeezing the younger boy's shoulders gently, "you did a brave thing, putting pressure on the cut even though you don't like blood. your dad would be so proud of you. so, so proud, i know it." mike muttered nonsense until he was sure the boy was in a soundless sleep.