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The scratching sound of Arthur’s hand-brake was always a concern to him. But even at the age of twenty-eight he was still struggling to have enough money to take the concern too seriously.
Instead, he ignored it as he always did. Making sure to let it click at least three times and silently praying that his car would not roll back down the drive once he left it.
He sat back in his chair for a moment. Letting his head fall back against the rest and sighing deeply as he prepared himself for the next few hours.
He loved his parents deeply. He would be forever grateful for the way they took him in. Not just as a Foster family but for adopting him officially as well.
But hell, they were exhausting sometimes. Dutch more so than Hosea. Always wanting to talk shop and try and convince Arthur to go another way in life. Stop trying to get his art out there and take on a trade instead.
Hosea was more supportive of his life choices. But the way he fussed over Arthur’s eating and the way he lived was its own form of exhausting. Always having to assure the older man that his apartment was clean and he had eaten three meals in a day.
Instant ramen was a meal. He didn’t care how hard others argued against that.
He missed being a carefree teen like John was at the moment. Not having to worry about mundane things like bills and whether or not his car would break down on the way to work for the third time in a week.
Steeling himself against the wave of questions as to why it had been so long since he visited, he pushed open his door and exited the vehicle.
Locking his car and checking to make sure his wallet was in his back pocket. He turned, jogging up the front steps and knocking on the screen door. It rattled under his knuckles, wobbling in its frame. Arthur had always mused just how easy it would be to push it off it’s hinges and walk inside. He was always on their asses to lock the wooden door as well but they refused. The screen let in the cool breeze and stopped them from having to pay for air conditioning.
Not that the cool breeze ever did anything to alleviate how sweltering their house was in summer.
Air conditioning was something Arthur had looked forward to the most when he left home. Turning it on and letting it run 24/7.
Until he’d gotten his first power bill.
“$600 a year is a bit steep for power isn’t it?” He’d asked Hosea bitterly.
Hosea had laughed heartily at his son’s naivety.
“Electric bills are not yearly son.” He’d corrected. “Every three months.”
“Every three months?” Arthur had asked incredulously, the other man smiling to himself knowingly.
“Not so fun being an adult now is it?” He’d chuckled simply.
Arthur still bristled at the memory. They could have warned him.
Although he knew deep down there was no way he would have listened anyway.
Arthur drummed his fingers absently against his thigh as he waited to be let inside. Frowning when no one came to the door and flicking through his keys to look for his old one.
He let himself inside, closing and relocking the door behind him as he yelled out that he had entered.
He checked the time on his watch as he walked down the hallway and turned into the living room. They did say lunch was at 2pm. He was only fifteen minutes early.
No one was in the kitchen.
Placing his hands on his hips, he looked around the room, clicking his tongue as he decided they must still be on their way home.
“Alright.” He whispered under his breath, leaving the living room and continuing on down the hallway towards his old room. He had wanted to grab some of his book he’d left here years before anyway.
As he sidled down the hallway he stopped in his tracks, movement catching his eye as he backtracked a few steps and peered into John’s bedroom through the open door.
“Hey?” He asked in surprise, realising the teen was home.
John startled at Arthur’s voice. Turning to stare at the older man, equally surprised from his place atop his bed.
“Hey.” He said back croakily, arms crossed across his chest moving to rest by his side as he pushed himself up into a sitting position.
He had been staring despondently at the ceiling. Arthur wondered if he hadn’t heard him or if he was ignoring him purposefully.
“I called out.” Arthur stated simply, shrugging as he moved into the room without invitation and slumped himself down into John’s desk chair.
“Thought you were Dutch.” John said wearily, head hanging low as he sat on the edge of his bed and refused to make eye contact with the older man.
Arthur frowned, something about the teen seeming off. He was never the most enthusiastic teenager but he usually made a little more of an effort to engage with Arthur than he was at the moment. Despite his emo phase ending a few years earlier he seemed withdrawn and sullen.
Arthur took in the younger’s pale appearance. Dark circles underlining his youthful eyes and discolouration mottling his cheeks and brow.
He seemed ill or at the very least, extremely tired.
Arthur knew he had been working hard at his trade lately. He’d earned himself an apprenticeship in some form of construction work. Hosea had been fuzzy on the details. Even hazier on whether or not John actually enjoyed or wanted the job.
Deep down Arthur felt perhaps John had just bowed to the pressure of setting himself up in life that his parents had always instilled on them. He had to choose something to get them off his back.
He felt bad for the kid. He didn’t really have any ambitions. None that he ever liked to talk about anyway.
“You alright?” Arthur asked earnestly, leaning down to try and catch John’s eye as the other nodded softly.
“Yeah.” He lied, unable to truly force the deceit.
Arthur heard the statement for what it was, pursing his lips as he rested his forearms on his knees and leaned closer to the younger man.
“Wanna talk about it?” He asked, already knowing what the answer would be as John shook his head.
Arthur inhaled deeply, sitting back in his chair and wincing as he leaned forwards again to pull his wallet from his back pocket. Placing that and his keys on the desk next to him before pausing and returning for his wallet. Slipping a 20 out of it and placing it between a stack of books.
He was broke as shit but he always had money for little John. The boy never asked anyone for a Goddamn cent and Arthur knew firsthand how cruel teenage life could be growing up with no cash. Although his parents had been generous with him, they were still less than wealthy compared to a lot of other kids in Arthur’s class.
Arthur turned back to John, clasping his hands together in between his knees and thinking on something to say to try and get the kid to talk to him. He had been feeling bad for not visiting as often lately. He wondered subconsciously if John was annoyed about that. Feeling neglected.
He had been meaning to drop by. Especially as John closed in on his eighteenth birthday. Only a week away now. Arthur had wanted to have a quick chat with him about drinking responsibly.
Although he knew of course the kid would never listen to him as he had not listened in the past. He wanted him to know he could always call if he needed him. That Arthur would be his designated driver no questions asked if he needed it.
Hosea had offered that to him just shy of his own eighteenth birthday. That and adoption papers. Arthur had never been so happy in his life.
“Your birthday’s coming up.” Arthur said after another moment of silence. “Eighteen, that’s exciting.” He baited, waiting for the other to perk up at the mention. What kind of teen wasn’t excited about hitting adulthood and all the disappointing realities that came along with it?
John’s hands tightened against his mattress, frown deepening at the mention of his birthday as Arthur watched on in confusion.
“Uh…” Arthur began, unsure what exactly had upset the kid. “Not excited then?” He asked, regretting his choice of words as he caught sight of John’s eyes watering. The younger’s hand shot to his face, wiping at the wetness before it could fall. Turning his face away from Arthur and trying his hardest to hide his tears and compose himself. “John?” Arthur said softly, feeling guilt well in his chest for causing such a strong reaction in the teen. It had been a long time since he’d seen him cry.
“Don’t.” John choked, shaking his head as he silently begged the older man to leave it alone. “Just, don’t.” He repeated, voice thick with emotion as Arthur watched on sadly.
“Arthur!” Hosea called suddenly, excited voice echoing down the hall as they both heard the old screen door rattle. Arthur turned away from John, looking out the doorway as the scrape of boots on the front mat and footsteps on the floorboards could be heard. The clunking steps drawing closer as the older couple returned home. “You’re early!” Dutch chided as the footsteps took a turn and Arthur knew without having to look that they had walked through the living room and into the kitchen.
“Fifteen minutes!” He shouted back. “Ya’ll haven’t even started cooking yet.” He complained half-heartedly before turning back to John and frowning once more. The younger was wiping at his face frantically, looking panicked as he tried to usher Arthur from the room.
The older man nodded, grabbing for his wallet and keys before leaving John’s room and closing the door behind him. He stood in the hallway for a minute, reflecting on the strangeness of John’s behaviour before heading back towards the living room.
He supposed he would not have wanted them to see him crying at that age either. He still had trouble crying in front of his romantic partner, let alone his parents. He would feel like a right fool if they caught him in that state.
Arthur’s parents looked up to greet him as he entered the living room, walking through and towards the kitchen bench as they both fluffed around putting groceries away.
“And here’s one we prepared earlier.” Hosea joked as he lifted a large bag of KFC into view and dumped it onto the bench in front of Arthur. The younger man laughed. He hadn’t been sure what he was expecting but it certainly wasn’t take away food. Not that he was complaining. But he sure did miss a home cooked meal.
He didn’t let the irony fly over his head at that fact. He had complained many times as a teen that he wanted fast food instead of the roast that had been prepared. Now he would kill for a juicy roast instead of the same greasy burger over and over again.
Arthur watched as the older couple shuffled around the small kitchen, gathering the plates and utensils they would need to eat.
He took the plates as they were handed to him, moving the short walk to the dining room table and placing them down in their respective places.
He moved back towards the bench and took handful of cutlery from Hosea.
“Hey?” Arthur asked softly, grabbing the older man’s attention as he leant against the counter and chewed over his words. “Everything alright with John?” He asked after a moment, keeping his voice low as he was aware the kid could enter the room any minute.
“Is he here?” Hosea asked in surprise, making Arthur frown.
“Yeah.” Arthur replied simply. Taking a moment to let Hosea speak again before adding. “In his room.”
“Oh.” Hosea said softly, unbagging the food and passing the items to Dutch to place onto plates. Arthur waited for one of them to speak again. Feeling impatient as they continued to ready lunch rather than answering his question.
“Is he alright?” Arthur asked again, a little firmer as Dutch finally turned his attention to the younger and Hosea ignored him, walking past with platefuls of food.
“He’ll be fine.” Dutch assured, picking up his own plates and walking towards the table as Arthur followed suspiciously.
Hosea placed his food down in the middle of the table. Turning to face Dutch with his arms across his chest and a sour face.
“Go on.” He snapped as Dutch approached. “Tell him.”
Arthur looked between them with furrowed brows as Dutch let out a long sigh. He had rarely seen them fight in his time with them and if they did it was usually Dutch that held a grudge.
Arthur felt something unsettling turn his stomach as he watched Dutch place his own plates down on the table.
He turned to Arthur, shrugging.
“We’ve decided not to adopt John.” He explained, shaking his head if he was talking about keeping a puppy or a kitten and not a human child.
Arthur felt his mouth open in shock as he looked between the two of them in disbelief.
“What?” He asked softly, eyes lingering on Hosea as he waited for the other man to argue.
“Dutch feels…” Hosea began, stopping himself quickly and correcting his words. “We feel…” He began again. “That it’s not in our best interest to take on another child permanently.” He explained eloquently as Arthur scoffed at the excuse.
He had always assumed that John would be adopted just as he had. As soon as the agency had confirmed that they had no plans to send him elsewhere, he had become a permanent fixture in their lives. Or Arthur’s life at least. He had let himself actually get to know the kid.
He loved him like a real brother. He had always thought that one day they would really be brothers, tied together by their parents.
“What about John’s best interest?” He asked flatly. Shock stopping him from expressing himself properly as he waited for a better answer than ‘it’s not in our best interests’.
That was a load of bullshit. There was something else going on and it made Arthur feel uneasy.
“We don’t have time to get into it now Arthur.” Dutch said gently, holding a hand out in front of him to signal that Arthur needed to drop the subject. The younger man glared at him, jaw clenched as he held back a rebuttal.
His parents were good people and he trusted them to make good decision for himself and the other children.
Well, John.
John had not been the last child they’d taken in. He was just the only one that didn’t have parents to go back to.
He was alone in this world, just like Arthur. John didn’t have any family and the family he did have before they passed had left him with nothing. Which is why Arthur had always assumed Dutch and Hosea would take him in too.
Give the poor kid the family he so desperately craved.
He knew deep down that they must have a good reason for what they were doing to John. But in that moment, he was blinded by a simmering rage as he remembered the boy’s tears earlier and how hard that kid had fought his whole life to feel accepted by anyone, especially their family.
Arthur turned his attention to Hosea once more, their eyes locking as Arthur registered a deep sadness in the older man. Stood a few steps behind Dutch, the older man shook his head slowly, telling Arthur to let it go before this situation turned ugly.
Arthur swallowed audibly, licking at his lips and turning to look at the dining room table full of food.
He felt sick to his stomach. His appetite gone.
“Have you told him?” He asked after a long moment, sucking on his teeth as he waited for an answer. The silence in the room deafening as the seconds ticked on without a reply.
“Not yet.” Dutch answered eventually. The scrape of a chair breaking the tension in the air as the older man pulled it out from under the table and slumped down into it.
Hosea followed suit, gesturing for Arthur to do the same.
He did as instructed, walking around the table and pulling out the chair from his favourite spot. Slinking down into it and looking to his right at the empty place he had set for John.
He supposed that they were all aware the kid would not be joining them.
“Well, he knows.” Arthur replied, venom in his tone as he snatched at the bucket of chicken in front of him and pulled it closer.