Chapter Text
"Right this way, Mr. Vega."
Drawing in a deep breath, he took in the atmosphere, or lack thereof, for hopefully the last time. The security guard started to remove his handcuffs one at a time. As soon as both were off, she gave him a comforting smile. It had been quite some time since his hands had felt true freedom.
It was almost too good to be true. This had to be a practical joke. He thought that at any second, a camera crew would jump out from behind a fake potted plant or something and lock him up for the rest of his life.
Much to his surprise, that didn't happen. The security guard gestured to the double doors before him. Near the top of each door was a small window, visible from both sides. Looking through it, he could see a familiar face. The first familiar face in almost two years.
"Ernest!" his father called to him, as the security guard led him out. He stood in the hall for a second, taking in another deep breath. His father ran up and hugged him, having no concept whatsoever of personal space.
"Hugo," Ernest uttered, not quite as emotional. It wasn't that he didn't want to see his father, it was just that it had been so long, he wasn't sure what to say.
Yet there was so much he could say. There were so many questions. The most important being, "Why didn't you ever visit me?" He didn't need to get into that right now. It would come up when the time was right. For now, he was just glad to get the hell out of there.
"Thank you so much," Hugo told the security guard. She responded with another smile and a nod. The two Vega men followed her out of the facility. Once they arrived at the car, Hugo handed his son the keys and told him to wait inside. Ernest didn't protest.
As soon as he got inside the car, he blasted the radio in search for a station playing a song he knew. His father hung back for a second with the security guard, staring at the ground.
"Is everything alright, Mr. Vega?" she asked Hugo.
"I don't know. It's just been so long since I've had my son back home. I really missed him," Hugo replied.
"Well, that's normal," she reassured. "But you have nothing to worry about. Ernest is a good kid. It just takes him a while to open up."
"But I'm his father! I should be the easiest person for him to open up to."
"Ah, that's where you're wrong, Mr. Vega. Parents are the last people teenagers want to open up to. You should know. You were his age once."
"I guess, you're right. I just don't know if he'll be able to adapt. So much has changed."
"And the time away helped him grow, I promise. He's not the same kid that he was when he first arrived. Maybe the changes at home will be good for the boy. You just have to give him a chance."
"Yeah, I'm sure it'll be fine. Thanks again," Hugo said, before heading to his car.
"Oh, and Mr. Vega," the security guard yelled to him. He quickly turned around to see her waving. "Tell Ernest Hemingway 'happy birthday' for me."
Hugo waved back to her and returned to his car. Ernest was staring out the window while a popular song that he didn't know a single word to, played on the radio. Hugo entered into the driver's side and turned the music down slightly. His eyes were fixed on his son who chose to stay silent. Little did his father know that his window was cracked and he could hear the entire conversation.
"So..." Hugo began, starting the engine. Ernest turned away from his father, still saying nothing. "I missed you."
Still no response. Ernest was never one to give into small talk or any talk for that matter.
"I bet all your friends are excited to see you again."
Another failed attempt. Ernest rolled his eyes further than he believed possible. Didn’t his father know? He didn't have any friends. This wasn't news. It was something Ernest had accepted for a long time now.
"Are you hungry?"
Their eyes met. Ernest was impressed. His father remembered the one thing that could get him to talk. Food. This tactic had 100 percent accuracy. If food was on the line, Ernest would do anything for you: clean your house, be your personal servant for a day, sing Bad Blood with you at karaoke; he'd even kiss a guy for food.
Well, actually. Never mind. Pretend you didn't hear that last one.
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" He finally uttered.
"Pizza?"
"Pizza."
About ten minutes later they arrived outside Pete's Piece a' Pizza. Ernest did a double take because the tiny hole in the wall pizza place he once knew had become a larger, fancier hole in the wall pizza place, that apparently 'now delivers.' Well, that's what the sign outside said. There was another sign next to it that read "Help Wanted," Ernest didn't pay much attention to that one.
"What happened to this place?" Ernest questioned, a little pissed off.
"Yeah, I know. It happened a few months ago. The place started to get more popular so the owner decided to renovate and make the place a little more accessible," Hugo told him.
"That sucks. Fucking gentrification can suck my dick!" Ernest shouted.
"Ernest!" Hugo whispered, shifting his gaze around. "I agree."
The two of them entered the building and Hugo told Ernest that since it was his 18th birthday, he could have however many slices he wanted. He even offered him a full pizza. Luckily, he declined.
Hugo insisted on staying at the establishment to finish their food. With the new remodel, you could actually sit down and enjoy your pizza. Ernest was having a love/hate relationship with it. He knew there would be changes in his life, he just wasn't prepared for his pizza experience to be different.
The pizza itself was still amazing. Ernest couldn't help but smile after every bite; the first time he's smiled in a long time. He couldn't remember the last time he was this happy, or this willing to have a full-on conversation with his dad.
"How's it tasting?" Hugo asked, mid-bite.
"It's just as great as I remember," Ernest answered, wearing the biggest smile.
"I know. The scenery may have changed but the food is still as greasy and deadly as it was before."
"And we could have enjoyed this greasy and deadly food at home. Why did you want to eat here?"
"Well, I mean, why not? It would be a shame to waste these nice new seats made with real mahogany."
"How do you know it's mahogany?"
"I don't, actually," Hugo admitted, letting out a slight chuckle. "I just figured it's something people say. Like 'that's real mahogany,' ya know?"
"I mean, it's not that nice. Our couches at home are nicer than this," Ernest recalled. He looked at his father who wasn't maintaining eye contact. "Unless you are some neat freak now that won't let me eat in the living room anymore."
"No, son. That's not it."
"Then, what is it?"
"Actually..." Hugo thought for a second. "That is correct. I am a neat freak now. I'm going to need you to wash your hands several times before we leave!"
"What, really?" Ernest exclaimed, looking down the hall. "They have a bathroom now too?"
After reluctantly using the new bathroom at Pete's, the Vega's headed back to their humble abode. Ernest wasn't sure what to expect next. He still didn't quite believe that his dad had suddenly become a germaphobe. All he really wanted to do was get some rest in his own bed. That's all he had dreamed about for so long.
And it looked like he would still be dreaming.
Out of nowhere, his father took a left turn that was very out of the ordinary. Ernest may have been away from home for a couple of years but he still knew the way to get there. He was seriously confused at this point. Where was Hugo taking him?
A few minutes later and the car had parked in front of much larger house than expected. Ernest couldn't help but wonder where they were. He followed his father up the front steps to the door that his father apparently had the keys to.
"Hugo, where are we?" Ernest finally inquired upon entering the building.
"This is our house," Hugo replied, taking his coat off and placing his keys on the end table. "I was going to tell you earlier but I wanted to keep it a surprise."
"But this place is huge! How can you afford it? What'd you do with all my stuff? Why aren't you answering any of my questions?" Ernest interrogated.
"Because you're not giving me a chance," Hugo responded. "Breathe, son."
"How long have you had this place?"
"For about a year."
"Which one's my room?"
"It's upstairs. The first one on the right."
Ernest was already half way up the staircase before Hugo could finish his sentence. He swung the door open to see all of the stuff from his old house. The room looked almost exactly the same as he could remember, but this placement of his bed next to his dresser wasn't correct.
"Hey, Hugo! You put my bed in the wrong place!" Ernest called to his father. There was no answer. He exited the room and started down the stairs. "Hey, Hugo-"
The boy stopped in his tracks once he saw a familiar face head through the door. Hugo greeted the other person with a hug and a kiss. A child ran in behind the two of them. Ernest wasn't sure what the hell was going on.
"Ernest, I have something else to tell you," his father stated, clearing his throat.
"What's up, Ernest?" the other man greeted. "It's nice to see you again, little dude."
"Hi Craig, what are you doing here?" Ernest questioned.
"Well, that's another thing I wanted to talk to you about," Hugo told him.
"What do you mean?"
"First, why don't I go make your favorite?"
"You have pizza rolls?"
"Bro, didn't you two just eat?" Craig queried, seeing the pizza sauce at the corner of Ernest's mouth.
"Hey, there is always room for pizza rolls!" Ernest countered.
"Pizza rolls!" The child from before screamed as they ran by.
"And who is this?"
"Oh, you remember River," Craig reminded him of the baby that he used to unsafely jog with in a papoose.
"Shit, tiny baby isn't a baby anymore," Ernest laughed. "How long has it been?"
"Um, sorry. If you couldn't use that language around her. She's at that age where she starts to repeat things," Craig kindly whispered to him.
"Oh, right," Ernest responded, zipping his lips.
"River, you may not remember because you were just a baby, but say hello to Ernest Hemingway," Craig told his daughter.
"Ernest Hemingway," she said, hugging his leg.
"Sup," Ernest mumbled, not knowing exactly what you say to a child. "Hey, didn't you have more kids?"
"Oh, you mean Briar and Hazel."
"Yeah, the twins. What are they up to?"
"Oh, they're at practice right now. They are the co-captains of the softball team. They're being scouted for a lot of college teams."
"Softball? Oh, the lesbian sport."
"Umm..."
"I'm kidding. It's cool that they're into physical activity. It's not my thing, but they can do it."
"The pizza rolls are done!" Hugo announced from the kitchen. "Why don't we all take a seat on the couch?"
Ernest grabbed the tray of pizza rolls and took a seat at the far end of the couch. Craig and Hugo sat together on the other end, holding hands. River had gone to the bathroom because she apparently needed to take a "boom boom." It was silent for a few minutes. Ernest obviously wasn't going to be the first person to talk. They had something to tell him, they would be the first to speak. Plus, he had his mouth full of pizza rolls, so he couldn't really say much.
"Dude, why don't we just tell him?" Craig uttered.
"Tell me what?" Ernest asked, between bites.
"Okay, so Ernest, as you can see, Craig and I-"
"Your father and I are in love," Craig interrupted. Hugo leered at him.
"Oh, um..." was all Ernest could get out.
"I know this is somewhat of a surprise-"
"How long has this been going on?" he interrupted his father.
"For a little under two years," Craig responded.
Ernest's eyes met Hugo's for a second. His father quickly looked away, shifting uncomfortably. Another minute went by and it was dead silent. The only noise came from River running around playing with her toys. She came up to Craig and jumped onto the couch. She looked over at Ernest.
"Ernest Hemingway!" River chimed.
"Don't call me that!" Ernest yelled.
"Ernest!" Hugo spoke up.
"So, is this what you've been doing for the past two years? Is this why you've been too busy to even visit me once?"
"Son-"
"No! Fuck you!"
Ernest stomped out of the room and up the stairs, still holding his tray of pizza rolls. He slammed the door to his new bedroom, and leaped onto his bed. Clutching a body pillow and trying to hold back tears, he stuffed his face with more pizza rolls. Before he could completely let himself slip into the abyss of darkness and depression, he turned to the only person that could truly understand his sadness.
"Feet don't fail me now," Lana Del Rey sang in Born To Die, the opening track of Ernest's favorite album of the same name.
By the time his favorite track, Dark Paradise started he heard a knock on his door. Of course, it was his father. He didn't budge. Ernest was in no mood to discuss anything with his dad right now. The only person he wanted to listen to at the moment was Lana.
"Ernest, may I have a word with you?" Hugo asked upon entering the room. There was no response. "Ernest."
He stayed in place, continuing to ignore his father. The only sounds he made were little hums to each song.
"Ernest Hemingway Vega!"
"What? What do you want?" Ernest shouted, adjusting his positioning to see Hugo.
"You know what you did. That was extremely rude. You need to apologize to Craig!"
"So I get punished for this but you're allowed to ditch your son for two years!"
"Ernest, I know it wasn't right for me to do. I was just very overwhelmed," Hugo explained, taking a seat at the edge of his son's bed. "You had already been in and out a few times."
"Yeah, but those were shorter periods of time. This was two years! Two fucking years of being alone and having nobody!"
"I wanted to see you, but Craig-"
"What about Craig? This has nothing to do with that meathead!"
"Craig reminded me that I've bailed you out enough times and it was time you learned from your mistakes."
"Oh, did he? So Craig thinks he knows everything."
"He got into a lot of trouble when he was younger and he learned his lesson. Now he's turned himself around."
"So he's the reason you never visited?"
"Ernest, he was there when I needed someone."
"Oh please, we all know you only like him because he's ripped."
"Excuse me?"
"'What are your turn-ons?' 'Muscles.'"
"You went on to my DadBook page? That's private information."
"No, it isn't. Anyone can access it."
"That's not the only reason that I'm with him!"
"Hugo, please. Nobody can you see actually ending up with a guy like him and getting married and shit," Ernest growled.
"Engaged, actually," Hugo corrected, displaying his ring finger. Ernest's jaw dropped.
"You can't be serious."
"I was going to tell you about that when the time was right."
"Of course."
"Regardless, Craig said this experience would shape you and I really believed it did. I spoke to that security guard and she told me-"
"I know what she told you. I heard the whole thing."
"Great, then you heard all of the nice things she said. Son, we all believe in you."
"Well, that's too bad because I'm the screw-up. I'm not meant to make anything out of my life. I'm not good at sports and I'm too dumb for college!"
"That's not true."
"Yes, it is, Hugo. I'm just going to be a stupid loser, sitting on your couch forever eating up your pizza rolls!" Ernest rambled, shoving another pizza roll in his mouth.
"Okay, I'm putting my foot down. I will not allow my son to say such horrible things about himself!" Hugo yelled. "I also will not allow you to sit around the house doing nothing! You are 18. You're officially an adult, so if you're not going to school then at least get a job!"
"No."
"Ernest."
"How about we go back to me apologizing to Craig?"
"Very funny."
"No, honestly. I'll do it!" Ernest pleaded, getting out of his bed. "You were right. I was a little harsh on him."
"We're not done talking about this."
Ernest noticed a reluctant smile on his father's face. Sometimes he knew the exact things to say to get his dad to shut up. The two of them exited the room, Hugo walking a few paces behind him. Craig was on the living room floor, doing some complicated exercise. Once they made it to the bottom of the staircase, Hugo cleared his throat to get Craig's attention. He was about to say something when Ernest bolted for the door.
On his way out, he snatched his father's keys from the end table where he left them. Hugo and Craig had no time to react, Ernest was already out the door. Once inside his father's car, he let out a deep sigh. His breathing was cut short when he saw Hugo in his peripheral.
He started the car up and drove off as fast as he could. There was no set destination in his mind. He was just wanted to keep driving and forget about every shitty thing in his life. This was probably the worst birthday on record. Sure, he was finally let out of captivity and he had become an adult, but at what cost?
The world he once knew was gone. Everything was different. Even his home, the place he felt safest was different. His new residence wasn't near anything he recognized, so he continued to aimlessly drive. At this point, he had no choice. Ernest hoped to see something even remotely familiar.
It was getting dark and he was starting to near the essential areas of Maple Bay. That old movie theater where he discovered his favorite movie was in view. If he remembered correctly, that meant they were close to that pizza place that he and his father went to earlier.
He pulled into the parking lot and turned off the car. For a few minutes, he sat, wondering what his next move would be. In the back of his mind, he thought of his father. Perhaps he called the cops and reported his vehicle stolen. Ernest knew that it was a possibility, but he hoped Hugo would understand his pain. Then he'd be locked up again, but this time it would be big boy prison.
Not like anyone would care. His father didn't give a shit the first time. Why would he care this time? He looked over at the newly designed pizza shop. Of all the changes, why pizza? His eyes shifted over to the 'Help Wanted' sign. The thought of his dad wanting him to get a job made him want to die.
The growling of his stomach interrupted his thoughts. Those pizza rolls never proved to be enough. Unfortunately, he didn't have a dime to his name. He searched the car for any loose change. His hunt proved successful, finding a few dollars and some coins.
He exited the car and headed inside Pete's. Upon entering, he could hear the owner complaining to one of the workers. It was against his nature not to eavesdrop.
"Where is he?" the owner asked, pacing. "We have an order that needs to go out."
"I don't know, I tried calling him," the worker told him.
"And?"
"No answer."
"What are we going to do? I need a delivery boy," the owner exclaimed, stomping away. He stopped once he ran into Ernest. "Hey, what are you doing?"
"Um, pizza?" Ernest replied, a bit confused.
"What's your name?"
"Ernest Hem-, Ernest."
"Ernest, nice to meet you. I'm Pete."
"Okay."
"Do you have a job?"
"No."
"Do you have a car?"
"I guess."
Pete ran to the back really quick, leaving Ernest alone in the middle of the shop. He came back after a minute and threw a black shirt and hat at him. Both items had the "Pete's Piece a' Pizza' logo on them. He was honestly bewildered about what had just happened.
"Ernest, you're hired!"
"Um, okay."
"I need you to deliver this pizza to this address," Pete demanded, handing Ernest a large pizza and a notepad. "You got thirty minutes."
Pete quickly ran to the back, leaving Ernest alone once more. There was no time to analyze anything that just occurred, all Ernest knew was that he had to deliver this pizza in half an hour. He ran to his car, put on the uniform and entered the address into the GPS.
It only took him around ten minutes to find the place. Interestingly enough, the address was a tattoo shop. It was called "Bloodmarch Tattoo and Body Piercing." Ernest couldn't help but think that the name "Bloodmarch" sounded familiar. He couldn't quite place it, though.
Getting to the door, he wasn't sure if he was allowed to go in. It was a tattoo shop, and people usually just waltzed in if they needed something. He decided that it would be safer to knock.
"Oh, the pizza's here! I'll get it!" A voice called from the other room. For some reason, he thought the voice also sounded familiar, but there was no way he could know these people. Nobody he knew worked at a tattoo shop.
After another minute, the door swung open to reveal someone that Ernest knew very well.
"Lucien?"