Chapter Text
Many Years Ago....
It had been a few hours when the Ripples went to that dinner banquet. It was also how long Alan stayed there until he abruptly left.
He had finally made his way back to the water district on his family boat and was about to park by the sidewalk. The apartment wasn't too far away from here, so he decided it was best to walk on foot.
However, he didn't come alone.
As he got off the port side, he was trying to help someone up as she was having a hard time standing on her feet. Since there was no ease around it, the 20-year-old had no other choice but to think outside the box. With one little boost, he was able to lift the lady out of the boat with ease. However, the landing was a bit difficult. As Alan placed her on the ground, the lady's precarious balance almost threw him off his footing.
It was Alan's mom, Brook Ripple, and she was inebriated.
With no crossing gaps ahead of them, he had a straight shot to the apartment. Plus, there weren't many water elements out at this hour, so it made it easier for Alan to keep going without having to explain to them what happened. Besides, he wasn't in any mood for talking right now.
Yet with every step he took, he would have to stop because Brook kept pulling him down. Not to mention the constant giggling and her slurring her words when trying to "sing" a song. It was very hard to keep going when he had to see her in this kind of state.
"AllLLll," Brook slurred, "T-ttTAaaKKe mEE ToO ThE H2CAsINooO. IIMMmm FEEeellIin LUUUcky ToNIIIgHHt!"
"No mom," Alan said firmly, "I'm taking you back home."
That was all he could say to her during their tedious trek towards sanctuary. At least without having to resort to shouting, which was the last thing he ever wanted to do with his own mother. She is family, after all. But a family is supposed to look after each other.
In Alan's case, he had to look after two elements. If not for his mom secluding herself in her room for months on end, then it was the fact that his brother, Wade, kept disappearing from home without telling anybody. He would eventually return every now and then and say that he’d been taking long walks on the beach, but Alan could tell he was doing more than that. Because depending on certain times of the day--mostly nights--he would hear faint screams in the distance.
The more he thought about it, Alan should've included Lake in the mix, as well. Other than having to lose a father at such a young age, they were at that point in their life where they were learning new things about their identity. But without anybody else to truly guide those feelings for them, they could only rely on themselves for comfort. Either way, Alan was willing to accept his sibling's new self-discovery without hesitation.
Having to think about family--let alone the well-being of family--put a ton of stress on him that was becoming too much to handle, even to the point of losing concentration.
Fortunately, they were coming up to the apartment.
As they got to the entrance, Alan saw the doorman, guarding his post as usual. He had a surprised look on his face.
"Mrs. Ripple! You weren't supposed to be back in a couple of hours," said the doorman, "Is everything alright?"
"AlllRiiiiGHhhht? AllRiiiigHhttt!?" she slurred, "Ohhhhh hAannDSoMMEEe, IIIIImmm bETTerrrr THaaNnN OOooKaAaaYYYy. FoOorRr EEeeVVeeeRrRY HoooUUUrrrr Iiisss HAAApppY hOooUuuR FooOR lIiITTlE OooLD BrrOOkkY BaaBBYYY!"
Brook continued giggling after her drunken rambling, leaving the doorman even more stumped as to why she looked so relaxed. Her son's face--on the other hand--tells a different story. That's when it became apparent to the doorman of what's going on. Those were not the giggling fits of someone who's euphorically happy, they were the fits of someone who's lost all self-control. The doorman could also read Alan's lips as he said something along the lines of "Please help me get her inside."
And so, he obliged.
Going first, Alan went inside guiding his mom by the arm while the doorman was behind her, just in case if she fell backwards. Finally, they got to the elevator which made it easier to get to the flat. As they went up, they--with the exception of Brook--didn't utter a sound. The doorman noticed that Alan couldn't look at his mother in the eye and that he also looked very tired. By the time they got to the flat, he insisted that he took her to her bedroom, so he accepted. Alan sat down on the inflatable couch, facing down at the pool water. His reflection said everything that he needed to know.
His thoughts were soon interrupted as the doorman headed back to the living room.
"Are you sure you're okay with doing all this by yourself, Mr. Alan?" he asked.
"Normally, I would," Alan responded, "But things are already bad enough as it is. I'm gonna have to call up my uncle and see if he could pick up Lake from the party."
"Should I inform your brother when he gets back?"
"No, not yet he needs to hear it from me. Still, thanks for helping me out, by the way."
"It's no trouble at all, son. I've been aware of your family situation."
"Yeah well--," Alan paused and said something under his breath, "--My whole dam family hasn't been the same for a while."
The doorman noticed Alan's mixture of frustration and sadness when he said that. It seemed he was starting to crack under the pressure of looking after everyone else. Knowing that he needed some kind of comfort, he gently put his hand over Alan's shoulder.
"None of this is your fault," he said.
"I know that" Alan responded, "But mom loved him too much, Wade never got along with him, and now Lake is going to grow up without a dad."
While Alan had a point about his two siblings, he didn't know what came over him to say such a thing about his mother. After all, you could never love somebody too much, right? Yet it feels like it's that same kind of love that's making her like this.
Suddenly, they heard faint sobs coming straight from the bedroom, a rather drastic shift in behavior compared to earlier. Her son wanted to go in and check on her, but just hearing her cry like that only made him reluctant.
Since there was nothing else for the doorman to do, he decided to go ahead and signal his departure.
"Goodnight, Mr. Alan."
"Goodnight."
Just as the door closed, Alan was left to accompany his intoxicated mother. But he was still hesitant to go back into the room. Every time he considered it, the more painful it becomes to act on it. He didn't know who or where to vent his frustrations towards.
Alan wanted to yell at her back at the boat, but what good would that have done? He could've called his girlfriend, Eddy, but he didn't want to drag her into this mess either. Maybe he should've gone to the beach and screamed at the ocean along with Wade. On second thought, he probably doesn't want to be bothered too. While venting to Lake would seem like a good idea, it would already be too much for them to handle. Same thing with his uncle.
All of them were in no emotional state to be handling this. Any attempt to hide the pain wouldn't work because they're very bad liars.
Alan continued to sulk on the couch, silently berating himself over the events that transpired.
He felt so stupid for assuming that his mom was ready to go out and socialize again after several months of grieving. He felt so stupid for not recognizing the frequent number of glasses at her table sooner rather than later. He felt so stupid for leaving Lake high and dry like that at the banquet. The last thing he ever told them was to stay there without a given explanation. He even felt so stupid thinking he could carry on the heavy responsibilities he placed on himself, all because the anchor that used to hold this family together was now at the bottom of the ocean.
All Alan wanted to do was be alone with his thoughts.
But he couldn't do that right now. Right now, he needed to go back to the bedroom and be by his mom's side as she sobers up.
Just at least until Harold arrives.
As he opened the door, he saw his mom laying on the master waterbed, a piece of furniture that was once meant for two. She had her body facing the other direction. Her drunken sobs may have died down, but it's not like Alan couldn't tell what she was feeling. Slowly, he made his way over to the bed and sat down on the watery mattress. Trying his best not to startle her, he gently put his hand on her back, rubbing it up and down. Likely because there's a chance that she'll experience sea-level sickness once she wakes up.
Suddenly, he felt something touching his hand. It was his mom's.
"Don't let me go, Dewey," Brook said softly as she passed out.
It was at that moment it hit him. All those emotions started gushing out like a broken pipe.
Alan quietly cried to himself and waited.