Chapter Text
This story is a collaboration between o0_LS_0o and AnnieBeeMe.
Introducing the characters.
Francisco Anthony Torres
Frankie
Arrogant - ADHD - Smart - Handy
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Eduardo Rafael Torres
Eddy
Handy - Goofy - Righteous - Strict
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Tia Rosa Torres
Tia
Motherly - Caring - Strict - Goofy
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Chapter 1
Getting Caught
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The sirens blasted loudly around him and the flashing red and blue lights made it very difficult to think.
Frankie groaned miserably. Beginning to feel cold and tired, the boy pulled his legs up on the backseat of the cop car and buried his head between his arms.
He was in so much trouble, maybe he'd have to go to jail! Or if he doesn't get sent to jail, then he must find somewhere to sleep on the streets. And that wasn't something he looked forward to. Although probably better than jail.
His great survival plan to break in and spend the night failed miserably. How was he supposed to know someone lived in that crib, there was no power or heat and still, someone lived there? It really did look abandoned. He watched that building for hours and it stayed empty. It turns out the guy living there was sleeping, which was the logical thing to do at one in the morning, but thinking clearly was not something he could do after that airhead of a stepmother kicked him out. He had nowhere to go.
Well, at the very least, the kid wouldn’t have to do much deciding for himself, as he soon found out.
“Kid, when we get to the station, you are going to call someone, it has to be a relative, has to share the same last name, okay? I know this side of town like the back of my hand, so please no trying to pull a fast one on me and call some thug to pretend for you. I have eyes everywhere.”
Frankie slumped into his knees, his semi-long waving black hair around his face like a curtain. He started humming quietly to himself just so he could hear something other than the cop’s droning voice and the whining of the sirens.
Frankie huffed tiredly. “Why do you gotta blast the sirens? I’m already caught. It’s not like we gotta hurry nowhere.”
The cop adjusted the front windshield mirror and glanced at him. “Gets me where I’m going faster. I don’t see the problem. Now shut the hell up.”
This did in fact shut him the hell up, as this wasn't his first time dealing with cops. He knew he needed to choose his battles at the moment. Until they got to the station. This is when he decided to see how fast his legs worked. He had to try, if there was even a light chance of him getting away, he must take it.
He found out—not very.
And when he was apprehended by a couple of guards nearby, he also found out that his lungs and vocal cords didn’t get him very far either. Another thing he learned right quick was those cops sure liked their bully sticks, because, in fact, they were total bullies.
He still tried to kick and hit and cuss with a vengeance. Too bad he was a pipsqueak, only 4’10 and lean, quite petite for a fourteen-year-old boy. He knew how to fight, he got into plenty of that while growing up, but he simply was no match for several adult cops.
His voice was hoarse and his muscles were sore by the time the guards had escorted him into the station. They had to cuff him and drag him. There was no other way for the cops to get him there and make him stay put.
As they dragged him to the nearest phone, he cursed at them with all his anger. He hated cops! He hated them with a passion. He was a little surprised they let him curse, but they probably thought it would be easier to just ignore him.
His mind reeled for ideas of who to call while he awkwardly handled the phone between his uncoordinated cheek and shoulder. He had tried to ask for his hands to be freed, however, that only earned him a glare.
Having to be threatened and prompted to comply with reciting a phone number for the guard to dial, and with immense attitude, the boy bellowed out the only number he could remember of his family members—of his live ones that weren’t in jail and who actually owned a landline phone—his cousin Eduardo.
He hadn’t seen Eddy in what felt like forever. But it must’ve been not that long, since he had seen the man on his thirteenth birthday the previous year, which was before all this shit happened with his dad dying from some gang fight. He supposed that’s why he got kicked out by his stepmother. She didn’t wanna deal with a brat all by herself, especially not one that would turn into what his dad was, a delinquent through and through. He couldn’t really blame her for that one.
The stupid phone rang. Rang once. And that man picked up. He’d always been responsible and ready for action. That was just who Eddy was.
A gruff voice resonated through the speaker. “Who is this?”
Frankie didn’t know how to start this, so he just decided to rip off the bandaid, and cut to the chase, and with a huff of misery, he stated, “I’m in jail. You gotta come get me.”
“Wait, buddy? Is this Francisco? Francisco Anthony Torres? It sure sounds like it, but why would my baby cousin be in jail? That’s just not something he would do. He’s a good kid.”
Frankie rolled his eyes, 'Really, this guy! The first second speaking to him and the man was already being a wise ass.' Frankie let out a deep sigh as he decided not to poke the bear, he needed help right now. And this was probably his only option.
“It’s me,” is all the boy could get out. He was exhausted. Hadn’t slept well in days and didn’t want to have more friction and yelling. He hated the yelling. It had been constant when living with his alcoholic dad and stepmom. Still better than when his mother was alive and into the “Big Blanka,” AKA coke. The boy still laid awake with guilt for wishing his mother dead, and now she had been gone, coming on four years from an overdose. Saw her laying there stiff in her bed with foam and green slime coming from her mouth. It smelt putrid like a garbage dump had puked all over her room. The boy had thought he’d killed her with his wish. A psychic murderer.
Now, in this moment of realization that he has nobody in town to call blood family, he would take her back in a heartbeat, even with her harsh words and her lack of attention to his needs. He loved her. He loved him—his dad. The man was a brute, beat the boy senseless for the smallest things, but at least he hadn’t ignored him as his mom had. And for that, he was grateful.
It didn’t matter now. With both parents dead in the ground. No use in wishing for the past to be the present. No reversing the damage done.
The line had now been silent, not even breathing to be heard. He was tempted to hang the phone up. He could find another way. Another wish. The boy felt this aching wish, a longing for some way to contact his REAL family, not blood-related but much more real than any family. The family that had been there for him, just waiting for him outside on the street, the family his dad had counted on, not blood family but blood brothers—and sisters—his dad had often referred to them as “The Stiffs.”
Frankie had never understood why they were called that. He’d never bothered to ask. He didn’t care though. He figured that no one asks what their own blood family names meant, so why would it matter for any family?
Breaking the paralyzed boy from his trance of panic, the gruff voice appeared again, this time in a sharper tone. “Well, we will be discussing this at length when I arrive. Until then, be praying that God will give you mercy because I’m not sure Tia will appreciate hearing about her nephew going to jail. And I can’t promise I will bring you home alive either.”
The boy gulped. He knew how his family, both blood family and blood brothers, had dealt with transgressions. And it wasn’t pretty. There could even be real blood. Every member got in on the action. Every member lined up to punish. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that. He could already feel the misery of potential punishment.
He couldn’t keep his voice from shaking with apprehension. “I didn’t do nothin’ too bad, not really. I had to—“
“I don’t wanna hear it. You can tell me everything once I’m there. Now give the phone over to an adult, Francisco. So I can know where I’m going.”
“Yes sir,” is all the boy could bring himself to say while obeying the command. He was a dead boy walking.
It took several hours before the man arrived, he had bronzed skin and was wearing an elegant checkered blouse, reflective of the current trends of the 70’s—his curlicue chest hair poking out—and frayed blue jeans, accessorized with a baseball cap hanging out of his pocket. His black hair was tufted in many directions as if he had forgotten to brush his hair this morning, even his beard looked very scruffy.
While the man drew closer to the boy, the boy tensed as he could make out how upset this man was. The face twisted with anger, and there was regret and sadness in those brown eyes. The boy wasn’t sure which emotion his cousin would act on first.
Frankie had tried to scooch off, but the man caught up with him, sat an inch away, and tucked him under his arm—the anger and regret and sadness flashing into intense concern. He hugged the teen close as he said. “What in God’s name happened? Why are you looking like you slept in the dirt? Why isn’t your dad here to get you? Your stepmother?” His voice sounded less gruff now, mainly choppy and tired, rapid and pleading.
Frankie didn't know how to tell the man his dad died, so he just shrugged.
"That's not an answer, Francisco," Eddy said.
"Stop calling me that, my name is Frankie," The boy snapped as he tried to get away from the affection the man tried to give.
Eduardo let go of him, but not before he moved the boy to face him, and glared at him.
"I asked you something, and I expect an answer, now tell me, where is your dad?"
Frankie tried to look away, but Eddy wouldn't let him. The man just took hold of the boy's shoulders and turned him again to face him. Eddy gave him a long stern look, and Frankie felt his eyes get gleamy. He refused to cry, men don't cry—as he had learned from his dad—but the deep stare of his cousin made him very uneasy.
He couldn't find the words he needed to say, so he just shook his head slowly from side to side and looked down at the floor.
Eddy knew something was very wrong the moment Frankie was at a loss for words, the boy always had something to say about everything in life, so something must be very wrong. He asked again. "Come on, what's wrong?"
Frankie let out a sad sigh and finally spoke in a shaky voice.
"I dunno." He answered in the simplest words. It was true, his family had told him his father was dead, but Frankie never knew when and how exactly it happened. He was told it was a rival gang, but nothing more. And as one of the younger members, you learned very quickly not to ask too many questions. He just had to accept the fact that his dad was gone.
Eddie stared back at him dumbfounded. "What do you mean?"
"I don't know, I guess... My dad just hasn't come home, and..." Frankie trailed off and looked down at the floor as he whispered, "I've been told he's dead." He threw a glance at his cousin to see what kind of reaction the man would give.
Eddy didn't say anything for a minute, he just looked shocked and a bit pale.
"You don't know for sure?! Didn't you go to the police after he went missing?" Eddy stated, unintentionally unsympathetic. He did try to be patient but this was news to him.
The teen huffed and glared at him while he crossed his arms. "I ain't no snitch! The fuzz won't help anyhow."
That earned him a glare from the nearby cop, Frankie resisted the urge to flip him off.
Eddy looked at the boy thoughtfully, thinking about what to do next, he should probably call Frankie's stepmom, but first, he had to get his cousin out of here.
Eddy sighed, "Well, let's get you out of here."
They needed to talk about this, so maybe it would be better if they went somewhere with less traffic to eat and talk. His young cousin looked thin and hungry, too thin for his liking. Even at first glance, it looked unhealthy. The boy also looked very tired, but Eduardo needed answers before he brought Frankie back to his stepmom for further answers.
The man stood up, putting his baseball cap on, and tipped it at the officers and guards—gesture doubling as an “adieu” as well as a request to get the boy uncuffed. The guards hesitantly complied, assisting the boy to stand and turn so they could free him. But as soon as those cuffs came off, Frankie bolted. The anxiety rush in his brain propelled him, and his legs took action without even giving him warning. This was all too much.
Unfortunately for him, some of the adults had already been blocking the door. This was not their first rodeo. The cop caught the teen without any trouble as he pulled him away from the door and towards the boy's cousin.
Eddy shook his head, grabbing Frankie by his shoulders. He pierced him with his eyes. “That is not acceptable. You do not run away from me. I am trying to help you, okay?” The man was serious, but not angry. He wasn’t entirely sure why the boy wanted to run. Frankie had trusted him. He knew this kid and it worried him that Frankie was too upset to fully divulge what occurred just a day or two before. He could tell by the way the teen held himself that this wasn't a young man who would be easy to talk with at the moment.
Frankie was confused, shaken, and completely lost. He wanted to find safety with his blood brothers. Not this man standing in front of him, they maybe share a last name, but he was not family. His family were the people who were fighting for him, and he was proud to be one of them. “Let go of me!” Frankie yelled.
Eddy gave his young cousin’s shoulders a shake. “Absolutely not. What’s going to happen now is I am going to take you to my car, we are going to get you fed and washed up, and then we are going to figure out what’s going on. Do you understand?”
“Fuck you! Fuck all of you! I don’t need you!” Frankie wailed, tears dangling.
Confused and growing steadily pissed, Eddy closed his eyes momentarily to take a breath. He knew Frankie. He knew his cousin was a very emotional person, just like most of his Hispanic family. It took more to make him listen. “Boy, stop. You are causing a scene. What would Tia Rosa say about this, huh?”
This caused the boy to stop and think. Just what he wanted. But only for a second. “I don’t care! Cuz I’m not gonna go with you!”
The man tried to hold the boy against his side and gently pull him along, letting his arms lasso tighter around the boy’s torso when he fought. Nervously glancing around at the officers poised to assist, Eddy forced a tight smile. “Buddy, if you listen to me, I will take you to any restaurant in this city. Your pick. And dessert too. But you have to cooperate.”
“Not going.” Frankie had begun to sound awfully young, whining more like a toddler than reasoning like a fourteen-year-old should do. He was desperate. He was refusing to relent. He felt he barely knew Eddy, unsure if he could really trust him. There were plenty of men who had bribed him before. They never actually meant what they said.
So–a very wrong decision was about to be made–Frankie, all reason having left him, craned his leg back and kicked his poor cousin in the shin. His cousin howled, releasing the grip, and hopped on his good leg. This allowed the boy to go flying off again, only to be met with more reinforcements from the authorities at the door, one of the guards having raised his bully stick, ready to land a blow.
Further dumbfounded and annoyed, Eddy hobbled toward the fiasco before the guard could complete his action. “Thanks, sir, but I can handle this.” Eddy pinched Frankie’s earlobe to make the boy rise to his appropriate height, turned him slowly, and with his other hand, applied a dozen swift, harsh swats to his younger cousin’s jean-clad bottom.
The boy growled in anger while his face flushed red with embarrassment. He had been bested, there was no way he could escape his cousin now, the brute would just start hitting him again. Eddy knew this would work. Always had with the boy. He released the teen's ear, and the boy turned and glared at the man, but he lost his need to fight as he saw those determined brown eyes of his older cousin.
Frankie sighed, defeated, and tried to use another method to win his cousin's favor, he gave the man his best pouting puppy eyes.
"Not gonna work kid! So you want to behave nicely and come with me, or do you want to have another go?" Eddy challenged, holding eye contact with the teen. He knew Frankie could be very stubborn, but he hoped the boy would just listen. It was late and they were both haggard and ragged.
Frankie seemed to think about it, he didn't want to listen to the man, but he didn't really have a choice. Apparently, Eddy was done discussing this as the man sighed and lifted the boy over his shoulder.
Frankie felt himself get hoisted over his elder cousin’s shoulder, and starting to curse loudly, he struggled and kicked wildly trying to get free, in which Eddie found it necessary to plant a few more smacks to his thighs while in the air. This caused him to whimper out his frustration all the more.
When the older cousin lowered the younger to the ground next to his vehicle, he glared at him with a pointed finger. His normally kind brown eyes narrowed into dark slits. “This will not be tolerated with me. You do this again, expect to go over my knee. Now, get in the car. Where you will explain to me what the hell is going on.”
Frankie nodded and did what the man asked of him. His backside still burned a bit from those smacks, and he couldn't believe he forgot about what a brute his cousin was. He huffed, annoyed, and crossed his arms but stayed silent as he stared out the window until Eddy got into the driver’s seat.
"First, I'm taking you for something to eat, you look like you need it, but I do expect an explanation about all of this, and then we will go to your stepmom. I don't know why you didn't call her instead of me, but I'm going to find out."
Frankie just ignored the man and kept staring out of the window. He was hungry, but he was afraid to explain to his cousin that he was kicked out. If Eddy knew he was sleeping on the streets yesterday and didn't have any place to go, he would definitely take him away from here. And that was something Frankie didn't want, his family needed him.
They drove for a short while and parked near a Burger Chef restaurant. Frankie's stomach growled at the thought of a burger with fries, but he was dreading the upcoming conversation. Perhaps his stomach was churning a bit from that too. Inside the restaurant, it was colorful, with bright red seats lining blue tables. They seemed to be one of the few people there.
Eddy put his hand on the back of the boy's neck, just resting it there, ready to grab hold if the boy wanted to run again. He squeezed gently to soothe the child, but Frankie seemed to cringe at the small show of affection. He guided the child inside, and he was pleased his cousin let him. The boy must be hungry, his stomach kept growling loud enough for him to hear. So he let the boy order whatever he wanted, within reason of course. Normally, he wasn't a fan of unhealthy food, but for now, it will do.
They ordered and brought their food to a table, Frankie didn't even wait till his tray touched the table before he started stuffing his mouth full with fries, he was starving! He managed to steal some food earlier today from a gas station, but as kids his age should be in school during the day, he couldn't risk being seen by the fuzz. Then they would ask questions he wasn't willing to answer. Ironic now thinking back on today’s events. But besides the small piece of stolen food, he hadn't eaten all day.
Eddy looked at his cousin with curiosity and slight disgust at how the boy was guzzling down his chocolate malt milkshake between handfuls of fries. He never would have thought that a fourteen-year-old boy could be so disgusting but there he was, eating like a wild man, with no manners whatsoever.
"Eddy, stop staring at me," Frankie whined, making a half-eaten fry fall out of his mouth. His face turned red, but it seemed to be more from anger than embarrassment. "You're gonna make me choke."
"No, you are going to make yourself choke because of the way you're eating, so I advise you to slow down and stop eating like an animal—and drop that attitude while you're at it. You are already skating on thin ice, Francisco." Eddy said as he gave the boy a stern look. The boy in question just sighed, annoyed, but continued eating his food, now at a slightly slower pace.
Eduardo waited till Frankie was finished eating before he started his questioning, that the boy was hungry was clear, but why he was hungry and why he tried to break in was still unclear.
Eddy folded his arms and leaned back as he gave Frankie a serious look. "So are you ready to explain some things?"
Frankie looked at him as he took a long sip of his drink. He seemed to be thinking about what he should and shouldn't say, but Eddy was a champ at searching out lies.
He wasn't going anywhere until Frankie told him the truth. "What do you want to know?" the wary teen finally asked.
"First off, I wanted to ask why you aren't at home," Eddie said.
Frankie raised an eyebrow and instantly went on the defense, spitting the last of his milkshake as he talked. "Why do you care? Just leave me alone! " He replied in frustration, trying to get away from Eddie's gaze.
"Francisco, you better drop that attitude, unless you want a private discussion about this." Eddy leaned closer to him. "You broke into a house and scared that old man almost to death. Then you tell me your father died but you don't know how?"
Eddy sternly looked his cousin in the eyes, he saw a flash of pain in those as he mentioned the teen's dad. He met the boy only two times after Frankie's mother died, and before that, it wasn't often they visited; they just lived too far away. So he was beyond surprised that Frankie called him of all people. There was clearly something wrong.
The teenager looked down at his shoes, not answering.
Eddie slammed the table, just loud enough to startle the boy without attracting too many onlookers. "Look at me when I'm talking to you! You had no reason to take advantage of someone else's house. What did you even get out of that?" he questioned again with more force.
The boy lifted his head a little then, looking straight ahead at him. "She kicked me out."
"Your stepmom? Why? And what about your dad? I need to know the details." Eddy was shocked.
Frankie sighed, defeated, and started to tell his story, his rendition of it anyway.
His dad just didn't come home one night, and he was told the man was dead, and then yesterday his stepmom had enough of him and kicked him out. His eyes got teary as he told Eddy he had to spend the night in the local park, and this night he just wanted something better.
Frankie took a deep breath and looked away, he didn't want Eddy to see his tears and it was starting to get difficult to control them.
“Oh, Frankie,” Eddy huffed miserably. “That sounds really rough there, little man. Why didn't you call sooner? Why would your stepmother do this? Come on. I’m going to leave some money, and we are going to march on over to that lady’s house. I won’t stand for this. She’s gonna get an earful from me for throwing out an innocent kid that was her responsibility.”
Before Frankie could say anything to stop him, Eddy gripped his younger cousin’s wrist and yanked him, leaving money on the table and cruising him back to the car.
This was not going to be a fun time. And Frankie wasn’t going to go down without a fight. Too bad for him that Eddy was determined to not let him win.
“Francisco Anthony, get in the car!” Eddy persisted.
Frankie was beginning to sound like a toddler as he stomped his feet in a pout. “I don’t wanna. I don’t—she’s not gonna be there. She’s gonna be working.”
This was a fib. Frankie knew full well that his stepmother didn’t work. Hadn’t officially worked in years, unless you count pimping herself out. She’d often trade Frankie’s labors for money also. Nothing to the same caliber of her own “labor,” his much tamer, in a sense. Simply doing housekeeping for families in the neighborhood, and a paper route. She had never let him keep any of the profits though, which sucked, unless he snuck some for himself, which he did on the occasions he didn’t get caught and beaten for it. He wouldn’t tell a living soul about that, especially not to his older cousin. Eduardo would have a heart attack if he’d known what troubles little Frankie had to put up with.
Eddy had to swat Frankie—just once—on his leg to cooperate with him, the teen got in and slumped into the passenger seat. Eddy couldn’t quite figure out why Frankie didn’t want to go home. And of course, Frankie wouldn’t divulge the reason either, the many reasons.
Frankie huffed loudly, he wished that everyone would just leave him the hell alone so he could go find his street family. They’d understand. They always understood because they all experienced what it was like to live like Frankie.
Eddy would never understand. Eddy was sheltered. Eddy was protected and nurtured and spoiled by his mother, Frankie’s aunt, AKA “Tia.” Tia was nice but very suffocating. Would never let her children, or any children under her supervision, out of her sight. And still, every time the boy saw Tia, she had been bossing Eduardo around. And Eduardo is an adult now. Frankie didn’t want that. He wanted to be free.
It was a much shorter distance than Frankie had hoped to arrive back at the house. The whole way had been filled with trepidation, knowing full well the outcome. The one outcome. Frankie guessed it would be inevitable for Eddy to take him to Tia’s house after seeing the conditions of this house, even if the stepmother was there.
Eddy was stubbornly protective. Eddy would never allow Frankie to live in squalor if he had a say in it if he had known the reality.
And Frankie was right.
It took a matter of under five minutes to see that the place was ransacked, empty, dusty, moldy, and without a stepmother in sight. Not surprising to see it so barren, he already had a feeling his stepmom was planning to leave. He just wished he had known this beforehand, then he wouldn't be busted right now trying to break in somewhere else. Now it looked like someone else got all the leftover stuff, people were scavengers. They could smell an abandoned house from miles away. In fact, Frankie was surprised more at the fact that there wasn’t a dweller inside yet.
Frankie could never admit this out loud but—deep, deep down, this solidified what he already had known about himself and his life, that nothing ever turned out well for him, and that no one gave a shit about anything remotely involving him. People always left.
Except for Eddy, or at least only until Eddy realizes how horrible a kid like Frankie is. No one ever wanted Frankie once they realized how much work he was, and what frustration he caused people. He was never useful at home or at school, only to the people in the streets.
“Well, shit! Shit shit shit. Where’d she go?” Eddy echoed into the abyss.
Frankie shrugged and sighed in irritation. “It’s not a big deal. I’ve been through worse.”
The kid could see the hurt flash in his older cousin’s eyes at that comment. He hadn’t meant to ask for pity.
“Really?” Eddy quizzed.
“No it’s—never mind. I have some people waiting for me—“
Frankie had attempted to nonchalantly walk out of the house, but Eddy wasn’t having it. “Absolutely not. I will not let you just walk away! Where are you going to stay? You got no money, no clothes, no food, no nothing. That’s not gonna pass with me. And even if I let it pass, my mom would kill me. Come on, let’s go. You're coming home with me, Tia can get you settled with some of my old clothes. Do you have anything you want to bring with you? ”
Frankie rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in frustration. "Do you see anything here at all? This place is empty!"
Eddy gave the boy a warning glare, "Fine! So I guess we're going now.” He grabbed the boy's bicep and guided him out the door. Frankie wanted to object, but let himself be dragged back toward the car. He was just too tired to fight this stubborn grown man, and he knew it wouldn't help anyway. He didn't want to go, his family was right here and he wasn't planning on leaving, but he clearly couldn't fight his way out of this. He’d have to find another way.
He knew he needed to be smart about this. He sighed sadly as he looked at his reflection in the car window. it was dark out, so Frankie didn't see much as they drove off, but he surely felt it, it felt like he was betraying his true family. People always left him; he never did the leaving. And it scared him.