Work Text:
Dom cursed as a taxi sped through a water-filled pothole throwing up a splash. Good thing he’d already been to his interview, he thought sourly as he looked down at the muddy spots on his best clothes. He glanced at his watch; half ten, no wonder he had a bit of a headache. He’d been so nervous about the interview he hadn’t had any breakfast and he’d been up since six. He had a few pounds left from yesterday’s haul and he decided to treat himself to a danish and some coffee.
He cut through the alley and was around the corner from his intended destination when three boys ran past him, knocking him into the wall. “Fuck off!” he yelled over his shoulder as they laughed and kept running. “Shag stains,” he muttered as he started moving again. He looked down the adjoining alley in the direction the boys had come from and saw a huddled form on the ground. “Cunts,” he swore under his breath as he headed for the person on the ground. Dom tended to get especially angry at acts such as these because he knew how close he’d come to having to do such things himself. “All right, there?” he called out softly.
The form curled tighter into itself and Dom stopped a few feet away, not wanting to get too close. “They’ve gone now,” he said soothingly.
There was a muffled sob but nothing else forthcoming. Dom sighed. “Are you hurt? Can you sit up or should I call for some help?”
“’M all right,” came the low, shaky response.
“Then sit up for me,” Dom said, keeping his voice low and calm.
The form unfolded into a lanky boy with moppish hair that fell into his eyes as he righted himself. Dom gave him a once over, noting the torn clothes, the red marks on the face, shoulders and arms and the blood over the boy’s right eye and trickling from the corner of his mouth. “They take your stuff then?”
The boy gave a jerky nod and sniffled.
“What’s your name?”
“Patrick.”
“All right, Patrick. I’m Dom. How long have you been on the streets?”
“This is my third day.”
“Yeah, you look new. Listen, do you have somewhere to go?”
“No,” Patrick sighed heavily.
“Come with me. I’ll get you seen to.”
“Right, so I should just follow you wherever?”
“Well, your choices are come with me and take your chances or stay here and take your chances. I’ll wait around the corner for five minutes and then I’m going home. You can come if you want. Up to you, mate.”
***
Patrick sat on the couch his arms wrapped tightly around himself. He was freezing, the borrowed robe doing little to warm him. He shivered, though he couldn't tell anymore if it was strictly weather-related; he was cold now in ways he never could have imagined just a few days ago. He saw the bear and picked it up, hugging it tightly, his forehead resting on the napped fur.
"...can't afford to, Dom..." Ian's voice was soft but the walls in these places were paper thin it seemed, enough that he could hear snatches.
"I won't put him back out there, Ian. Not happening." Dom's voice, more emotionally charged, came through quite clearly.
"...not saying that..."
"Where's he going to go, E?"
Patrick heard Ian's sigh clearly. Tears pricked at the backs of his eyes as he considered not getting to stay even one night with a roof over his head. If he'd been in his own clothes, he would have left, but he wasn't and he couldn't exactly leave this place only partially dressed as he was at the moment. He shut his eyes tightly, pressing his face into the bear's fur.
"...like you did with me. Please, E?"
Patrick blinked as the shred of conversation sank in. No wonder Dom had been so emphatic about Patrick coming with him earlier. He, too, had been on the streets at one time. It made sense now. He listened hard for Ian's reply but it was too low and Patrick just couldn't make it out.
A minute later, Dom came out of the kitchen with a steaming cup of tea. He smiled down at Patrick as he handed the boy the cup.
"I see you've found Bear."
Patrick quickly set the bear down and reached for the cup. "You don't seem the type for small stuffed animals."
"Bear belonged to someone else who...used to stay here. He comes with the place now. Sort of a mascot. Drink up."
Patrick took a deep swallow. Hot with lots of sugar. Just what he needed. "Thanks, mate," he said quietly. "Cup of this and I'll be ready to go once the clothes come out."
"You don't have to leave, Patrick."
"I don't want to cause any trouble, Dom. You've done plenty enough for the likes of me."
"You heard some of what we were saying, then."
Patrick shrugged.
"Stay tonight. Get warm, have a hot meal and sleep somewhere you won't have to wonder if every noise means you might get hurt. We'll look at everything else tomorrow, all right?"
Patrick looked up at Dom, seeing nothing but gentleness and concern in the blue gaze. He fought with himself for several moments. It was obvious that his being here could become an issue but God what he wouldn't give for one night of comfort. He nodded slowly. "All right."
“Good,” Dom said, nodding once. “Finish that tea. I’ll find you something decent to eat.”
Patrick dutifully took another sip of tea as Dom disappeared back into the kitchen. He looked back over to the bear he’d tossed onto the couch and frowned slightly, but was torn from his thoughts by a key turning in the lock of the front door. He immediately tensed as a tall, skinny boy slipped inside, shut the door and locked it behind him.
“Who are you?” The new boy asked, seeing Patrick on the couch.
“Patrick.”
“Who let you in?”
“Dom.”
“Ah. Well, I’m Ben. Is Ian here, do you know?”
“Kitchen.”
“Thanks, mate.”
Patrick watched Ben wander into the kitchen.
“So how long is Patrick here for?” Ben didn’t even try to keep to his voice low, didn’t seem to care.
“Tonight,” Ian said.
“As long as it takes,” Dom said at the same time.
“You’re such a softy, Dom. You know the rules, eh?”
“Fuck off, Ben.”
Ben apparently decided to leave well enough alone and changed the subject. “Hey, E, we still on?”
“Cardigan at four, yeah?”
“Excellent. You got somewhere to be beforehand?”
“Before and after. I’ve only got a couple of hours free today.”
“All right. See you over there then. Oh, and Dom?”
“Yeah?”
“Where’s Patrick going to sleep, mate? We’ve got a full house.”
There was a significant pause during which Patrick figured he would, once again, be relegated to sleeping in a door stoop or an alley somewhere tonight.
“He can have my spot,” Ian said.
“Ian…” Dom’s voice clearly conveyed that this was an unexpected development.
“If he’s going to stay, it’ll cost. The money’s got to come from somewhere and we’re hardly making it as it is.”
“I could—“ Dom began.
“No, you can’t,” Ian cut in brusquely. “Let me worry about it. You just make sure he gets taken care of.”
“Is this a good idea, E?” Ben said quietly.
“Did you get a look at him, Ben? Three to four more nights tops, mate.” Ian sounded pained and tired. “Dom’s right. He can’t be put back out there. Besides, I have places I can go.”
“But I don’t want you to—“ Dom was clearly distressed now.
“You can’t have it both ways, Dom. If he stays, then someone has to go. Who else would you nominate in my place?”
There was a strained silence and Patrick held his breath, wondering how this would all play out. He was already fair shocked that Ian was allowing him to stay, let alone apparently giving up his own place in the house so Patrick would have a place to sleep.
“Be careful, yeah?” Dom said softly, worriedly.
“Yeah,” Ian said, just as softly.
Then Patrick could see Ian heading further down the hallway toward the bedrooms. He came back out a minute later with a ragged messenger bag over one shoulder and a guitar case in hand.
“Thank you,” Patrick said as Ian was opening the door.
Ian’s intense blue eyes met Patrick’s gaze for a long moment. “Get some rest tonight,” he said evenly as he shut and locked the door behind himself.