Prompt: Can you do a prompt on Ray and/or Silas's POV, when Ray came and got Silas from his sister?
A.N.- Please god I love Ray and Silas so much give me all the prompts for them
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***Ray's POV***
I got out of my car, staring at the run down house. Knowing my sister was inside, drugged up and angry.
Knowing this would likely be the last time I saw her.
I walked up and knocked on the door. She was my little sister and I wanted to help her. But she was an adult and she'd made her choices. My nephew needed me more than my sister did.
She yanked open the door. "Take him. He's driving me fucking crazy."
"He's your son," I said, following her into the house. "Eliza, I'm taking him with me when I leave today, no matter what. But I can still help you."
She spun around and hit me so hard I nearly stumbled back. "I don't need your fucking help, Raymund. You think you're all high and mighty because you became another bitch to the country, killing who they told you to kill. You wore a fancy uniform and think you're special. You're not. You're not better than me. And you'll hit him too. He gets on your damn nerves, trust me."
"I would never hurt a child," I said firmly. "I don't think I'm special, Eliza. I think I'm your big brother."
"Family supposed to mean somethin' to me? Because I remember dad knocking back drinks and throwing punches, and mom cowering like a bitch, and you bailing the first chance you got. Don't act like you're a good man. And don't act like that boy will be anything less than his grandfather," Eliza said coldly.
I wanted to tell her I hadn't left. That I'd only gone to join the marines because dad had stopped drinking. That if he'd so much as lifted a beer, I would've come right back to protect Eliza and my mom.
But she wouldn't listen. So I didn't waste my breath.
"Where's Silas?" I said.
"Don't know," Eliza said. We heard a crash and yelling from upstairs, and she lit a cigarette. "Found him."
I hurried upstairs, into the tiny room Silas called his own. His father, Luke, was shaking him, slamming him repeatedly against the wall.
"You take a damn thing that ain't yours and I'll hunt you the fuck down, boy," Luke was snarling.
I grabbed him, yanking him off of Silas and standing in front of Silas. I crossed my arms, making sure my muscles were on display for him to see.
"You sure you want to do that?" I said, voice a threat.
"Take the fucker," Luke snapped. "Just get out of my damn house. No wonder Eliza didn't want nothing to do with you."
He left the room and I turned to face Silas, feeling that sharp pain in my chest as I looked at him. He was just shy of thirteen, but clearly underfed and poorly cared for. He was small, his hair a too-long mess that hung partially in his face. He glared up at me, bruises and cuts decorating so much of his skin.
