Chapter Text
Normally Geography class was boring enough to make Lucien start doodling, as he barely focused on what he teacher at the front of the room was talking about, but after the last week’s events, Lucien’s focus wasn’t on the blank paper in front of him, or on the voice that floated around the room, trying to instill some kind of knowledge on the students sitting around him. No, his head was drifting far away, across the town, thinking about his dad.
Things hadn’t gotten better after that evening. His father had tirelessly been scraping off the paint on the front of their house, which was annoying not only because of the awful scraping noise, but just the feeling of perfectly applied paint being scraped off to show and uglier, white-ish wood color under, was just an eyesore. Damien had stayed home an entire day from work to get it done quickly, but honestly, it felt useless. By morning, everyone in their little cul-de-sac knew what had happened.
Finally by the evening, it was re-painted and lacquered, but just two evenings later, the text had come back. Instead of scraping, this time it was just colored over, much to Damien’s despair. He explained to Lucien that the reason he hadn’t painted over it from the beginning was because then it felt like he hadn’t actually gotten rid of the text, but merely hidden the words, but they’d still be there.
Now it was about four layers of covered awful words, and it was taking its toll on the both of them. Lucien hated seeing how absolutely sad his dad got every time he came home to find the words, spray painted back, sometimes bigger than before, or with different colors. One day they had even seen that the culprit had sprayed the transgender flag on their door, but then a bright red circle with a line striked through was over it. His father had barely gone to work over the whole week, constantly trying to catch the person, or being too busy covering the paint up.
Lucien’s focus came back when he heard a bell, realizing the period was over. Quickly getting up as he tried to push his way out of the classroom, the teacher’s voice pierced through, stopping Lucien in his tracks.
“Mr. Bloodmarch? Mr. Vega is asking about you, he’d like you to go talk to him during lunch.” the geography teacher spoke, and Lucien couldn’t help but sigh. Of course. He was probably worried about how this whole incident was affecting the teen. But it wasn’t Lucien that was getting hate, it was his dad.
“Alright.” he spoke, almost numbly, and caught a worried glance at his direction. Great. Hugo had probably mentioned to the entire faculty bout what was going on.
Locating the faculty office, the teenager knocked and got allowed in by another teacher, as he sat down in an uncomfortable chair to wait for Hugo. Man, the school really needed a better budget if they skimped out on the chairs for the teachers. These were more uncomfortable than the ones the students had in the classrooms.
“Lucien?” he heard Hugo’s voice echo, and the man sat down by the desk in front of the teen, leaning his elbows on his legs, to show his focus was entirely on the Boy.
“I was told you wanted to talk to me, so, what is it about? Normally you guys just call dad to pick me up when you think I’ve done something.” he spoke, leaning back and crossing his arms. He would probably just skip school after this and head home, in hopes of catching whoever was spraying the walls before they got there, and hopefully could stop them.
“No, no, this isn’t about something you’ve done wrong… I just want to see how you’re holding up. I know you and Damien have been having… a stressful few days, and a couple of teachers are reporting you’ve seemed more distracted than usual, so, I figured maybe I could call your dad, and tell him to let you stay home from school until this… ‘mess’ is solved.” Hugo spoke with a professional tone, but Lucien could physically feel the man was concerned. He was actually slightly thankful for it.
“It might take months.” he pointed out. His dad had gone to the cops the day after the first time, but they had just said they couldn’t do anything without evidence of who it was. Mary had threatened the cop, demanding they did more, which Lucien had laughed at slightly. But sadly, the cop apparently have zero fucks, so he had brushed it off saying if it got worse, to come back, and they might set out a patrol.
“I know… We would of course accommodate that maybe you could do homework online, or only come in for a day per week.” Hugo sighed. He wanted it all to get done as well.
“... I’ll have to ask dad about it.” Lucien mumbled, but in his head, he decided not to do that. Damien did not need to worry about Lucien right now.
“Alright, well… In case he disapproves, I do suggest that you have a talk with… the school counselor.” Hugo had quieted down a couple seconds, taking it slow, as lucien’s opinion about therapists, counselors, and anyone trying to give him help. And sure, as soon as the words left hugo’s mouth, Lucien was gripping his sleeve, holding his frustration back.
“... No.”
“Lucien, just.. Just today. I’ve had a talk with her, and Mrs. Carler is willing to see you on friday, just try one day. Your dad thinks that would be good for you too.” Hugo was basically pleading with the teenager, which made him relax slightly.
“... Fine, one day.” he spoke. Normally he’d be kicking and screaming, but he just wanted to go home now. “May I leave?”
Hugo sighed, turned back to his desk, and wrote something, which Lucien figured was a note to the counselor, saying he probably willingly agreed to talking to her.
“Alright, go home and check on your dad.” Hugo spoke, which took Lucien by surprise. “It’s lunch.”
“I’ve excused you for the rest of the day, so go on home. I don’t think you’ll be focusing today anymore, anyway.” Hugo gave the teen a smile, which Lucien just nodded back to, and left the faculty office, and hurried out to head home, slightly hopeful he’d be able to get home before the asshole had sprayed something else onto their wall.
Forty minutes later, he stared at the door, and the bright blue text. He wanted to throw a stone at it.
“You are not wanted here”
He looked around for a second, and saw his dad had left a paint can by the kitchen window. Lucien grinned, walking over to it, and figured at least for one day, his dad could come home for one day to not see any disgusting words.
After he was done, he put the paintbrush down, and went inside, to get started on homework. He’d done better with finishing it everyday, again, to give his dad less of a hard time. Lucien decided to sit in the kitchen, so in case the guy came, Lucien could at least catch a glimpse of him.
Damien came home 4 hours later, exhausted. He found himself wishing the new coworker would be fired, or give up and leave the company. So many personal questions, and even the other coworkers seemed to realize something was going on, as Mary-beth, 6 cubicles down, had wondered why the newbie was asking so much about Damien. She had even revealed to him that the guy had asked their boss about Damien, who, thankfully, had refused to give any info.
Walking up, he mentally prepared himself to see text, but stopped as he stared at the door. It was messily painted black, the paint can that he had placed somewhere else had amazingly moved spaces. Damien almost thought this was another sabotage, but he found a small note, in Lucien’s neat handwriting.
“Don’t bother asking why, just, believe me, it’s an improvement. I couldn’t clean it off better than I covered it.
- Lucien”
The man smiled, as he put the note in his pocket. Unlocking the door, he quickly located the boy, sitting in the living room, reading a book. He saw a pile of school books on the kitchen table. As exhausted Damien felt, Lucien’s simple existence was calming. It felt good having one person that unconditionally loved and cared for you.
“Hey, dad.” He heard Lucien’s voice, as he looked over at him, the book put down. “I uh.. I tried fixing the door.”
“I saw.” he smiled, as he pulled his hair out of the ponytail, rubbing his head to relieve some pain. “What did it say this time…?” he frowned. Did he even want to know?
“Not telling you.” Lucien smirked, sticking his tongue out in a childish manner, making Damien laugh as he sat down next to the boy. “Thank you, darling… I promise, this will all be over one day.” he mumbled. He wanted to believe it, but for now, he could attempt at reassuring Lucien at least.
“Hugo called me at work by the way, about you agreeing to seeing a school counsellor.” he talked again, frowning at the boy. He wasn’t disapproving, but he was worried it it was false. Lucien had such a dislike for therapists, or any mental health expert after one tried to prescribe ADHD medicine to him, without even trying to diagnose him. That had scared Lucien of getting forcibly rugged, to the point he had basically adapted Damien’s view of painkillers. The boy’s pure anxiety for medicating was worrisome at times, and right now, for him to willingly ut himself in the seat, gotta mean something.
“Uh, yeah… Mr. Vega thinks it would help at school. He also suggested that I stayed home a few weeks.” Lucien mentioned, his focus was back on his book. The older man frowned at that. Why suggest that, when Lucien was agreeing to therapy?
“Well, did you give him an answer?”
“I said I’d prefer to go to school.”
Lucien’s answer made Damien almost feel bad. Was the boy forcing himself to go for him? “Darling, if you really feel that you can’t--”
“Dad, I’m fine.”
“Alright, alright, I’m just- looking out for you.” he sighed, getting back up. He had a headache again this week. “I’ll be upstairs honey, go to bed on time. I love you.”
Lucien was quiet, so Damien kept walking upstairs, rubbing his eye after removing his glasses, but before he closed the door to the bathroom, ready to take a long, hot bath, he heard a faint ‘Love you too’.