Work Text:
It was just about five am, and the hot Summer sun was already starting to creep into view on the slowly brightening horizon. Humidity already hung heavily in the morning air, and Bill Murphy lay wide awake in bed, quietly dreading having to hustle through his paper route in this miserable heat.
There was no need for his alarm to wake him up this morning, as his attention had been firmly fixated on the distressing (and frankly annoying) noises that emitted from the bed only a few feet away from his, for quite some time. — Bill always thought that once people got older, they outgrew such juvenile antics as having nightmares, but clearly his hapless older brother was the exception. These episodes weren’t frequent, but they were always annoying. Especially now that Bill had a job to do that demanded he wake up at ungodly hours.
Bill lay on his side with furrowed brows and watched as the dark gray sheets on Kevin’s bed rippled about in all directions as he occasionally kicked or slapped at something only his mind could see. Accompanied by groans, whimpers, and the occasional incomprehensible garble of words, Bill exhaled irritatedly as he mulled over whether it was worth facing Kevin’s morning wrath to wake him up, or just put up with the irksome noise for just a few more minutes.
Glancing over at his “Nickel & Pickle” alarm clock, he noted the time, it was 4:58am, he went ahead and preemptively switched off the alarm with a roll of his eyes. No point in trying to get those last two precious minutes of sleep with Kevin thrashing about next to him. “Fuckin’ pussy.” He muttered to himself, slumping out of bed and quickly getting dressed.
As the small redhead knelt down to tie his shoes, suddenly Kevin’s occasional thrashing became a good deal more violent and distressing. “N-noooo! I caaan’t! Nooo!” Kevin’s words were clear as day. Bill shot up and turned around, Kevin was flopping around erratically, clearly whatever was going on in his head was seriously vivid.
Cautiously looking up at the ceiling, he was surprised that the noise hadn’t woken their father up, yet, but he figured it was only a matter of time. His eyes darted around the room, looking for something to wake Kevin with, that would at least give him the safe option of being out of punching range when the angry teen came-to.
Smiling at his stroke of brilliance, Bill grabbed his hockey stick from its spot, leaning against the closet door and carefully approached Kevin, poking him several times. “Kevin? Wake up, asshole! You’re going crazy!” Bill chastised in a sharp whisper. The unexpected, and real touch from the hockey stick only served to disturb Kevin more. “HNNNNAGH!” He groaned loudly, back arching as he tried to get away, still fast asleep. “NNAGH! D-D-DADDYYYY!” Bill dropped the stick and rushed over to the bed, attempting to pull the sheets back. “KEVIN! JESUS! WAKE UP!” Bill shouted, he bit his lip when he realized how loud that was; it was only seconds before he harkened to the unmistakable sound of their parents’ door creaking open, and Frank thumping down the stairs.
Suddenly the door swung open, Frank’s tired face wearing a formidable scowl as he peered inside. “Do you have a FUCKIN’ CLUE what time it is you goddamn…Holy shit!” Frank’s anger seemed to melt away in an instant in the face of his oldest child’s state.
Without missing a beat, the seasoned pro took a seat on the edge of the bed. He carefully reached down and placed a supportive hand behind Kevin’s head, and held the other up cautiously, waiting to see what kind of move Kevin was going to make next. Once he’d thrashed about a few more times, he rolled over enough that Frank could safely take hold of his torso with a soft squeeze from the other arm.
He lifted Kevin up at level with his lap and held him close, gently shaking him awake. “Hey! Hey! Hey! Shhh! Kevin! Wake up! It’s okay, buddy! You’re okay!” Frank reassured in whispers. Kevin’s eyes shot open, full of tears. He lay back, in Frank’s grasp, practically gasping for breath.
Frank leaned back to acknowledge Bill. “Go get him some water, will ya?” He ordered in a somewhat sharp, but muted tone. “W-wawa! N-n-nooo!” Kevin protested in a somewhat regressed tone, still coming into consciousness from the bad dream. Frank took a deep breath and pressed a hand to his temple. “God damnit.” He muttered under his breath, once he realized what the nightmare was about. “Uh…go get him…something to drink.” Frank rephrased, gently rubbing Kevin’s back as he clung on firmly to his shirt. “Um. S-sure, dad.” Bill sheepishly walked out of the room without another word. It was strange to see his father in something resembling a caring state, especially with Kevin.
Bill returned with a glass of water and sat it on the chair by Kevin’s bed, before sitting back on his own, watching the unusual scene unfold. Frank gently released Kevin from his grasp and let him sit up on his own; carefully prying the fabric of his shirt from the teen’s firmly clasped fingers. Kevin reached for the water and practically swallowed it in one noisy gulp.
Glancing over at the clock, it was nearly quarter past five, at this point. “Um…I’ve gotta go do my papers…” Bill gestured at the door quietly, Frank only turned his attention to Bill long enough to give a simple nod in his direction. “Okay, good job, son.” He said flatly. Bill kept his attention firmly fixed on the admittedly unusual display as he took his time exiting the room. — Kevin sat up in bed, one hand on his head, weepy eyes staring emptily at him; normally, Kevin would’ve put on a powerful scowl, or gestured a fist when realizing his sometimes annoying little brother was standing there, staring at him. But now, in his half-awake, post-nightmare state, those harsh brown eyes just stared through him, uncomprehendingly.
Frank waited for the familiar creak and close of the front door before turning his attention back to Kevin. “You okay?” He asked, gently running a hand through Kevin’s hair. Trying to regain whatever shreds of his tough exterior remained, the boy wiped the tears from his eyes with a swift, insincere motion of the back of one hand, and adjusted his position on the bed. Sitting upright, he drew his lanky legs up to his chest and hugged his knees, resting his hands on them. “Yeah…” He muttered tiredly, unable to force any more words out. Frank peered over to Bill’s side of the room and checked the time. “Hey, it’s Saturday, your mom and sister aren’t gonna be up for awhile, how’s about we have somethin’ to drink?” Frank asked, gesturing at the doorway with a thumb over his shoulder. “Sure.” Kevin replied, cracking half a smile. Intrigued by the offer, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and beat Frank to the kitchen.
Kevin turned on the light over the table and sat down. It was almost strange, seeing the house in the half-darkness of such an early morning hour. The area was almost foreign. Quiet. Strangely peaceful, though the jarring light of the pendulum lamp overhead ruined the aura of calm created by the natural early morning light. It did bring a needed sense of familiarity to the dimly lit area though.
Taking a seat at the table, Frank sauntered in after him, reaching for the fridge, Kevin was somewhat confused when he pulled a bottle of milk from inside. — When Frank had offered him a “drink,” knowing his father’s cure-alls for poor sleep, he was anticipating a more adult beverage to settle his nerves. But nonetheless, he watched his father with a curious intensity as he set about his mundane task.
Flipping a switch to illuminate the hood over the range, Frank hummed quietly to himself. He placed a small pot on the stovetop, and poured some milk in. Kevin alternated between watching his father, wordlessly stirring the milk in the pot, and glancing out the back door’s window, watching as the bright oranges and yellows of the Summer morning slowly crept over the horizon, gradually swallowing up the remaining darkness in the sky.
After a few short minutes, the milk was steaming. Frank tapped his wooden spoon against the rim of the pot and pulled two mugs out of a cabinet. Scooting a small floral canister forward, he dumped several heaping spoons of fine brown powder into each mug, the piping hot milk followed. Stirring each one vigorously for a few moments, a bit splashed back onto his hand. “Ah, shit!” Frank seethed in a whisper, waving his hand around as he attempted to cool the burn. Kevin smirked, from his seat at the table; a snarky expression he quickly abandoned when he noticed Frank approaching the table.
Sitting a mug in front of Kevin, he took the seat opposite of him with a resounding ‘creak’ from the chair as he pulled it out from under the table.
The two stared at each other in silence; soft tufts of steam undulating from the mugs and dissipating under the harsh light above the table. Frank was the first to lift his mug and blow that steam away, slowly downing a warm, hardy gulp.
“You know, this was one of the only happy memories I had with your Grandma Nora. Whenever somethin’ was botherin’ me, or your Aunt Eileen, she’d always make us hot chocolate. Didn’t always solve everything, especially if the problem was my old man, but…you know…took the edge off, anyway.” Frank opened up in a hushed tone. Kevin eyed the mug for a few more moments before delving in, himself. The comforting warmth of the ceramic mug in his hands, the strong sweetness of perhaps TOO much cocoa mix for such an early hour, and the prolonged trailing of the heat of the drink that lingered in his throat and spread comfortingly throughout his whole body; Kevin closed his eyes and exhaled softly, savoring the moment. Indeed, this was making him feel better.
Amid the silence, birds outside began chirping their morning songs, and the familiar ‘ching ching’ of Bill’s bicycle bell sounded in the distance of the waking world beyond the kitchen door. As the harsh sunlight finally crept over the adjacent rooftops and shone brightly through the windows, Frank scooted his chair out and sat next to Kevin, backs facing the jarring light.
Kevin glanced over at Frank, who placed a hand on the back of his chair, and briefly smiled down at him. Across the table, their elongated shadows fleetingly imprinted together on the busy green wallpaper.
“So what were you dreaming about?” Frank asked, no punches pulled, although internally he knew the answer. Although his eldest was now a teenager, hell-bent on looking (and acting) as tough and unfazed by life’s trials as possible, everyone in the family knew that deep down, his near-death experience had scarred him in some way. These nightmares had been a part of Kevin’s life since then, and though they had declined in frequency over time, one thing about them never changed: Kevin absolutely needed Frank, and ONLY Frank, to calm him down.
“Drowning.” Kevin answered, with equally matched bluntness, not making eye contact as he took another sip. “Oh…” Frank cringed, looking away, unable to think of much else to say. As much as he tried to shove any semblance of guilt or responsibility for the infamous ‘Wawayonda Inn’ incident aside, especially in front of Kevin, he definitely felt it.
Frank unsteadily let his hand drop from the back of Kevin’s chair, and onto his shoulder with a gentle squeeze. The sudden, warm weight on him caused Kevin to turn his full attention to his father. The gesture was small, but so was Frank’s capacity for physical affection, at least where his boys were concerned. Thus, any such gesture was acknowledged and appreciated. “What?” Kevin inquired softly, sitting his mug on the table. “You know…you know you don’t have to be so afraid. I’ll be there when you need me. Always.” Frank reassured in a tone that far contradicted his usual demeanor.
The teenager stared back at him with a mix of relief and surprise in his tired face. “…I know, daddy.” He responded with some degree of skepticism, eyes widening and cheeks blushing with embarrassment when he realized what he’d just said. “I uh…I mean, yeah, DAD, I understand!” He tried to recover. Frank chuckled warmly to himself, choosing not to bust him over it. This was another unchanging thing about Kevin; this little wannabe bad boy referred to him as ‘daddy’ almost as often as Maureen. Normally it only slipped out when he was seriously distressed, but then there were times like this, where he was so comfortable and at-ease with Frank that he supposed some kind of comforting childhood instinct just took over. Admittedly, Frank liked it. “Yeah yeah, I know…we don’t always get along, but I meant what I said. I’m your father. That’s my job. I’d NEVER let anything bad happen to you, okay?” Frank reassured determinedly.
Kevin leaned forward a bit, resting his face in his hands, staring at the wall. The strangely elongated pair of shadows now closer resembled the two authentic forms seated close by, as the morning light continued to change. Suddenly Frank laughed heartily, stifling himself as he stared out to the living room, remembering the rest of the house still sound asleep. “What?” Kevin demanded, this time sounding a little annoyed and amused.
“Nothin,’ nothin,’ I was just gonna say…maybe we could get you into swimmin’ lessons this Summer. You’d stick out like a sore thumb, in class with a buncha little ankle biters, but hey! At least you’d be learnin!’” He chuckled. Kevin smirked, admittedly the prospect was quite amusing. “Yeahhh, let’s not jump the gun on that.” He replied, downing the last, now lukewarm sips of his hot chocolate. Frank chuckled again and playfully jostled Kevin’s shoulder.
About a half hour later, Bill returned, Frank and Kevin sat on the couch together and wordlessly passed the time. It was still a bit too early for anything good to be on TV, and no one else had stirred awake just yet. “Oh, hey son.” Frank greeted with a smile as Bill closed the door behind him with a deep yawn. “Hi dad. I think I’m gonna head back to bed for a bit. I didn’t exactly get much SLEEP.” Bill snarked, glaring at his older brother on the couch. Kevin, rejuvenated by the magic of hot chocolate and recovered from his nightmare, glared back and held both hands up, middle fingers pressed upright. “Knock it off, you animals.” Frank said sternly as the younger of the two disappeared behind the gentle close of his bedroom door, too exhausted to offer Kevin any rebuttal.
Kevin sank back into the couch and stared up at the ceiling, occasionally moving an eye to the side to catch a glimpse of his father. The two were fairly consistently at odds over one thing or another, but it was an unspoken and jointly acknowledged truth that they adored each other. — Kevin admired his father’s profanity-laden leadership and dedication to his family. And Frank, although he knew with the utmost certainty that rock stardom wasn’t in his flighty eldest child’s future, did at least admire his perseverance, and determination to chase his passions in life. Even if they were perceivably out of reach. — But those sentiments would likely never leave the safe-haven of their creators’ minds. And that was okay. The pair knew each other well, and their mutual, though often conflicted appreciation for one another was known, in some way.
After a few moments, Frank glanced up at the stairs, making sure Sue wasn’t awake just yet, and reached over to the magazine pocket on the side of his favorite chair. Pulling out a pack of cigarettes, he took one final peek up at the stairs and lit it, taking in a long, slow drag. Sue would lay into him fiercely for smoking in the house, though it was common knowledge that she stole a few puffs beneath the kitchen vent, herself from time to time. But at the moment, he was comfortable, and Kevin was calm. No point in spoiling such a rare moment just to step outside for a fleeting few minutes.
Frank raised his head up and blew acrid smoke into the air, watching it dissipate into nothing. Suddenly, he felt something tapping at his arm. Turning to face the source, he noticed that usual, mischievous smirk on Kevin’s face. “What?” Frank asked, Kevin extended a hand. “C’mon, gimme one!” He demanded. “Not a chance. Whatever stupid shit you get into on your own time is your business, but your mom’ll kill me if she finds out I LET you smoke.” Frank rationalized. Kevin leaned up and crossed his arms, smirking. “Mom’s already gonna kill you when she finds out you smoked in the house…Can we negotiate for just a couple drags?” Kevin asked, Frank rolled his eyes, realizing Kevin actually had a bit of a point, there. He took one long drag, sucking up as much of the already half-spent cigarette as possible before passing what remained off to Kevin. “Fine. But I’m denying this ever happened, if she asks.” He smirked. “Alright!” Kevin cheered quietly, extinguishing the cigarette with two hardy puffs, before tossing the butt into his empty mug. Frank chuckled to himself. He wasn’t happy that Kevin apparently smoked, but there was something devilishly enjoyable about sharing a secret.
After a few minutes, Frank felt a warm weight against his arm. Turning his attention downward, he noticed Kevin’s head pressed against his shoulder. Frank adjusted himself and wrapped an arm around him, pulling him closer. “You should go get some sleep, I’m sure you’re feelin’ better now, right?” Frank said softly. No response. “Hey. Kevin?” He asked again, this time with a light jostle of his arm. Looking down he noticed that Kevin was already asleep, comfortably leaning into him.
Frank sighed and briefly mulled over what to do. He didn’t want to risk waking him up again, but he also didn’t want to sit in this uncomfortable position for potentially hours, wide awake as his limbs inevitably fell asleep as he tried to keep still. Slowly he scooched himself off of the cushions and kept an arm wrapped around Kevin for support. Turning around, he let Kevin’s weight fall into his arms, and prepared his aging back and legs to lift him up.
“OH! You’re gettin’ too big for this shit.” Frank grunted to himself, pulling Kevin up in his arms. He kept one hand squeezed tightly against his upper back, and the other beneath the backs of his knees, practically swinging his skinny legs up from the couch as he lifted him up. Despite the considerable jostling Frank engaged in, to hold him securely, Kevin didn’t stir a wink, in fact, he leaned into Frank further.
Struggling down the thankfully short hallway with Kevin awkwardly snoozing away in his admittedly unsteady grasp, Frank pushed the boys’ bedroom door open with a nudge of his foot. Waltzing over the piles of discarded laundry, crumbled homework assignments, sporting equipment, and various abandoned personal affects, he made his way to Kevin’s bed. His knees quaked as he lowered him down as slowly as he could. He breathed a sigh of relief and shook out his arms as he stared down at his eldest, hands on his hips. When did this become so hard, when it used to be effortless? He thought back on the countless times he’d carried Kevin off to bed, when he was small, like it was nothing. Now it was a struggle. Both of them were getting older; Kevin getting bigger and Frank getting weaker. Kevin’s need for services like this from his father fading almost entirely out of existence.
Such was life. But as much as he postured and joked that he couldn’t wait for Kevin to leave home, a large and quiet part of him just wasn’t ready to let him go. Especially knowing that Frank was his safe-place. The best he could do for now is be here when the nightmares came. And he would be there. Always.
Softly, Frank pulled the dark gray sheets over Kevin and gently kissed his forehead. Turning around, he checked on Bill, already bundled up in his contrastingly bright yellow sheets and fast asleep. He gingerly ruffled Bill’s cerise locks and kissed the top of his head. “Sweet dreams.” He whispered, departing from the room with a quiet close of the door.