~One Shots~

Elliot Gray: Origin Story

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This is Elliot's origin story, the second in the little series! I hope you enjoy!

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Elliot yawned, stretching out his body across his worn bedsheets. He sighed, keeping his eyes closed from the milky sunlight seeping through his broken window. His father hadn't gotten his paycheck yet this month, so repairs needed to be made to the small, cramped apartment they lived in were held off.

His window had been broken by a pair of kids across his street who hit a baseball, resulting in it flying at his window, shattering the glass. He had scolded them, and they had been apologizing for doing it and he could tell they didn't mean to break the window, so he let it go. 

He felt the warm, humid air swarm his body, a small fan blowing air onto his face to fight some of the heat away, with little success. 

"Ottie!"

Elliot was just drifting off again when he heard his father's call. Elliot's father had been calling him Ottie since he was just a child. It had stuck all the way into his adult life. He didn't mind the nickname. It reminded him of easier days and reminded him that his father still stuck with him, despite the troubles.

At least his father wanted to keep him, unlike his mother. He frowned at the thought of his mother. That kind of person disgusted Elliot. She had left his father, a good man who was working his hardest to provide for a newborn baby, a wife, and himself, and she had ditched this man who loved her from the bottom of his heart just so she could get a man who was rich.

Elliot's thoughts drifted off to the very day it happened. A week before the event, it was Elliot's 10th birthday and he had gotten some of the best gifts from his father, who had picked up extra hours of work to pay extra for nice gifts for his son. 

Elliot's mother, on the other hand, hadn't gotten him anything, just saying happy birthday to him in the morning and vanishing for the rest of the day. His father had taken him out to eat, but looking back at it now, Elliot could tell how broken his father was.

Once the "event" came, Elliot had just gotten back from school. He was tired, but looking forward to getting home because his mother had apologized to him the night before and said that she would take him out somewhere once he was home to make up for the fact that she didn't give him anything for his birthday.

So, throughout the whole day, excitement thrummed through him, and the hours of school dragged on, seemingly taking years for the school day to finally end. He had walked into his house, expecting his father to be home from work and his mother to be waiting ready for him.

However, that was not the case.

Elliot had walked in on his father and mother having a screaming match in their living room. His family had been a happy one. Yes, sometimes his father wasn't home as much as he would have liked, but his father was still a part of his life. He had his loving mother, who always looked out for him.

He thought his parents were in love.

One was, and the other was not. 

He had been terrified, as a ten-year-old, to see that. That rare sight.

 When his mother, brimming with anger, had seen her son, she had rushed over to him and grabbed his wrist and, without explanation, dragged him out of the home he had so many memories with his family in. All Elliot remembered so vividly from that day was the look on his father's face. It was absolute devastation. 

Elliot, after being taken away from the only home he had ever known, was brought to his mother's "boyfriend's" house and stayed there for a month, utterly confused as to what was happening. The man he was forced to live with wasn't great and often ignored him or sent him dirty looks. Elliot, though so young, could tell that man did not want him there. He didn't know much about what happened when his mother had him. He was still driven to school in the morning, but other than that, he really did nothing else during the day.