Mercy, Love, and Other Useless Things

Whelve

Quiet was familiar. It used to be a comforting presence, surrounding Oliver like a security blanket. Silence meant being on his own, and on his own meant nobody else to account for. Nobody to worry about in the back of his mind, nobody to hurt him. So he hid behind his walls and basked in the quiet.

Birthdays had been no different. Maybe a store-bought cupcake. Spending a little cash on himself. Birthdays were a him thing. So when suddenly they weren't, it was overwhelming. Suddenly, Oliver was being suffocated by congratulations, warm wishes, and gifts he had never quite learned to graciously accept as others did. It was so much.

Oliver didn't like it.

    Yeah, people celebrating you is a good thing. It's supposed to be, at least. But for Oliver, it was only ever terrifying. All eyes on you. Your reactions, your emotions. Oliver never quite liked being the centre of attention. But he tried his best. Almost robotically stumbling his way through.

Until Alex arrived.

    If Oliver was offered a birthday gift of the universe, he would trade it in for a day with him. He was Oliver's everything. So it was kinda irritating that he had done what he had. Even though Oliver had confided in him. Oliver would always be thankful for him. Constantly opening his eyes when he was being done. Because the words Alex spoke grounded him in a way Oliver hadn't noticed. It was supposed to be overwhelming. It was supposed to be a lot. Because it's not a bad thing to be seen. All that time, Oliver hadn't liked any of the theatrics on his birthday because he wasn't used to being cared for.

To being loved.

Alex showed him each day that Oliver deserved to be loved. Oliver deserved to be a big deal. Each day, Oliver liked to think he believed it just a minuscule amount more. And it was so amazing to finally feel that type of love. Alex had never failed in making him feel loved. And he was the best birthday gift Oliver could've ever asked for.

When Oliver had brought up the idea of having Noah and Alex over for his birthday - not completely up to any of them, Oliver had a feeling they would have shown up no matter what his parents said - at the dinner table there was a loud, dramatic gasp from across the table that could rival even Alex's theatrics. Mom. She was almost vibrating with her barely contained enthusiasm.

"Really? You want to have friends over?" She was leaning forward in her seat, over her food but she didn't seem to notice, nor care. She glanced at her husband, who was grinning so wide he looked about ready to cry. "Yes, anything for you, love."

"I'll even stop by that coffee shop in town-- the one with your favourite cakes and stuff," his dad said, he was leaning back and relaxed in his chair, his dark sweater wrinkling with the movement.

"Aww," Jessica cooed, adding on a dramatic sniffle as she mocked a sob. "My baby brother-- growing up so fast!"

"I'm turning sixteen..."

"Yes, but we've only had you for like four years, all the years before that point don't count! You are considered four until further notice," she stated, crossing her arms over her chest and looking proud as if she'd won some sort of argument. Oliver rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, whatever you say, dumbass-"

"Rude-!"

"Language," mom warned. It was honestly amazing how fast the woman could switch, but the slight lift to her mouth was a dead give-away to her impermanent anger.

"Sorry," Oliver said. He wasn't the least bit apologetic.

He loved it. He loved the connection he had with his family. It had taken so long for them to get to that point, two years if Oliver recalled correctly. After his parents... Oliver had shut down for a long time. Oliver wasn't sure how many people could say they've truly experienced abandonment. Yes, countless people have been left. Stood in the dust of those who simply walked away. Lest it be out of pain, or pride, or a mixture of the two. It aches. But that deep pain is temporary. Eventually, you come to terms with the fact that they did more harm than help. And you're a better person than you were before. Oliver was so jealous of everyone who experienced that. That feeling of moving on.