Work Text:
Well this is certainly one hell of a birthday.
Hannibal was finally 18. He was a big boy now, ready to start his journey into maturity. He should be excited, right? I mean, normal people would be at least a bit joyful to finally reach what society considers “adulthood.”
But not Hannibal Niccals. He was nowhere near being excited. He was beyond fucking pissed actually.
He shouldn’t be mad.
It shouldn’t hurt as much as it did.
He hasn’t had his birthday acknowledged by that bleeding womanizer in years.
So why? Why did it hurt so much to hear Sebastian openly not remember his birthday? Why did it hurt even more to hear him get his own sons age wrong?
“Do you remember what day it is?” Hannibal had asked out of the blue. He sat perched next to his father on the couch, slightly fiddling with the denim of his punk style jacket.
Sebastian chugged the bottle of rum that loosely hung in his fingers at record speeds.
He sighed when the burning liquid finished sliding down his throat and cocked his head to the side to stare at his eldest son.
Hannibal wasn’t even sure why he asked. He hadn’t asked before. The last birthday he remembered being acknowledged on was way back in primary school. Those younger days seemed so far away now.
Maybe it was the new baby that had fumbled his fathers brain. 2 Niccals became 3. The constant screaming and whining from the infant would distract anyone. It surely distracted Hannibal.
He absolutely despised having to care for Murdoc after school. But knew it had to be done, the child was obviously neglected during the day by their drunken father.
Now instead of relaxing on a Tuesday afternoon, Hannibal had to be on the streets with his baby brother, begging the local store owners for spare diapers and formula.
Wasn’t the most glamorous life but it worked.
But here he was in a slight peaceful moment, many years later, asking his tipsy father if he knew what day it was. He thought maybe he should remind the old geezer of this mild stone. (it always seemed important in the movies.)
“Like, errr, Thursday?”
It was actually Wednesday. But close enough.
“Yes, but not what I meant.” Hannibal responded looking down at the fabric of his trousers to distract his anxious eyes.
“Fuck then, I have no bloody idea.” Sebastian scoffed and looked forward to the television that was spouting nonsense none of the men would remember.
“It’s my birthday.”
There was a few beats of silence. The words from the television started to buzz out from the lack of electricity and service.
“Is it now? Would have never guessed.” Sebastian huffed and topped off his bottle of rum with a final sip.
Hannibal’s lips pulled into a frown and he glared towards the wall with a sour aura radiating off him.
That old goth. That snarky no good for nothing druggie. God, did he make Hannibal’s blood boil.
“I’m 18 today. But I assume you wouldn’t care about that, right?” Hannibal sneers and crosses his arms. He hated this blasted house but couldn’t help and crave his fathers time.
“18? I was sure you were like ehh 15 at best.” His father commented with a shrug.
That bastard doesn’t even have a hint of sympathy for forgetting his kids birthday. Hell, sometimes it seemed he wanted to forget his kids all together.
“How the hell could I be 15? Murdoc’s fucking 12 for gods sake!” Hannibal snapped, he turned his head to face his fathers direction and mustered up the nastiest glare. Something he learned from his father too.
“God, you think I know how old that imp is? I haven’t looked into it since that sodding talent show!”
That talent show. That damn talent show that Murdoc had whined and cried about going too everyday. The one Hannibal was glad he didn’t have to participate in, the humiliation would’ve killed him. He was surprised it didn’t kill Murdoc.
He was 8. Sebastian hadn’t kept a tab on Murdoc’s age since he was 8.
“You useless sod! How are you even qualified to be a bleeding parent if you don’t even know our damn ages!” Hannibal hissed, abruptly standing from his spot on the ripped couch.
“Hey! Watch your distasteful mouth! I never asked for you leeches!”
“Well you were the imbecile that stuck it in every bloody hole you saw with no rubber!” Hannibal scowled.
“If you want to talk all that rubbish then get out of my fuckin’ house!” Sebastian squawked. He pointed the empty bottle of alcohol towards the door to empathize his point.
“So now you want me out of the house? What happened to using me for ‘free labor?’”
Hannibal and Murdoc have been threatened many times by their father. Threats that mostly included being thrown out on the streets. But both knew he’d never actually do it, they were the only blokes paying for his alcohol and house.
“I’ll have the little lump to do it for me,” Sebastian spat out referring to Murdoc. “And as of now you’re not my sodding problem anymore. You’re an adult - so get the fuck out!”
Hannibal stood there with a expression that was mixed with shock and anger.
He had no where to go. Sebastian can’t just kick him out!
“This is bullshit-!” Hannibal started. His voice sounding less confident than before.
“Either get out or start paying me rent! Nothing comes for free, faceache.”
Neither options worked. He had no money and no place to go.
“I’ll see myself out of this dump then!” He finally said after seconds of silent disbelief. Even if he had no plans he didn’t want to satisfy his father with money.
Stomping up the stairs in fury, Hannibal barely noticed the smaller body huddled by the staircase.
“Are you really leaving?”
The voice caught him off guard. He stopped at the top of the stairs and stared down at the source of the sudden noise.
Murdoc sat, propped up against the wall by the staircase. Probably eavesdropping on his and Sebastian’s rather loud conversation.
“Yeah. You’re on your own now. Better you learn now then in 6 years when you’re being kicked out too.” Hannibal said stuffing his shaky hands into his trouser pockets.
“But I don’t want to be on my own. Not yet.” Murdoc pouted and stood from his spot on the floor. “Can’t you just pay Pops and stay here?”
Hannibal held back the urge to snap at the child. He rolled his eyes and made his way towards his bedroom door, little footsteps followed behind him.
“You think I have any money, dullard?” He hissed while creaking his, soon to not be his, bedroom door open.
Murdoc’s eyebrows furrowed and he fiddled with his fingers. Trying to think of a solution.
“Well then, can I come with you?” He asked in an almost pleading tone.
Hannibal grasped his backpack and sighed. He couldn’t take Murdoc with him. He had no money, food, transportation, or shelter. The little pipsqueak had a better chance here than anywhere Hannibal was going.
“No. You’re going to stay here with Sebastian.”
“But Hannibal-“ Murdoc started in a whiny tone.
“Shut it! You’re not leaving, got it? You’re staying here and finishing school then you can go to god knows where!” Hannibal snapped and stared down Murdoc.
The younger boy flinched and held back the urge to flash a hurt face. Instead he put on a mean frown and scoffed, “Fine whatever. I hope you get mugged out there!”
Murdoc stomped out of the room and left Hannibal to finish packing what he could in nothing but his own thoughts.
Hannibal shook his head to rid himself of the events that played out a couple minutes prior.
He stuffed more clothes and records into a bag and zipped it up. There wasn’t much in his bag as there wasn’t much in his room to begin with.
He decided to leave some old posters hanging up, maybe Murdoc would claim them or Sebastian would nick ‘em and sell them for a pretty penny. Didn’t matter to him which occurred.
He threw the backpack over his shoulder and secured it. Doing one more look of the room and deemed it cleaned out enough. He turned on his heels to finally leave this hell hole.
The stairs of the old building creaked with each heavy footstep from Hannibal. He definitely won’t miss this. The constant noise from the house. A single breath and it felt like the whole thing would collapse.
The buzz from the television was louder now. Sebastian must’ve turned it up to not listen to his two sons bicker. A new bottle of alcohol now was grasped in the wrinkled green hands. He sipped it without a care in the world.
Hannibal swallowed the lump in his throat when he looked from his father to the front door. All of a sudden the emotions were so strong.
He wanted to sob.
He couldn’t cry though, not until he was out of the house.
“Fuck you, Sebastian. I never want to see your ugly mug again.” Hannibal hissed out after seconds of trying not to wail.
The couch creaked with the change in pressure as Sebastian whipped his head around to give one final glare.
“Off you go then, boy! Good riddance!” The old man growled before turning back to the rubbish on the screen.
Hannibal flipped him the finger, knowing fully well he couldn’t see it with his back turned to the boy, and walked out.
Slamming the door shut he breathed in the rotten air with a heavy inhale.
The tears he was holding back gathered in his eyes. He blinked hard to push them away but the feelings were far to strong. A few strangling tears fell down his cheeks and landed softly on the chipped porch beneath him.
“I haven’t seen you cry in awhile.”
Hannibal snapped his eyes open and stared at where the little voice came from.
Murdoc had his knees up to his chin and sat on the little set of stairs that led down to a gravel trail. His head and upper body was slightly turned to look up at Hannibal’s vulnerable face.
“Why- why the hell are you out here?” He sniffed quickly getting himself together. Hannibal wiped at the tears and rubbed his freshly puffed eyes. Embarrassment now settling in.
“I wanted to say one last fuck you before you left.” Murdoc scoffed and looked back out towards the road, turning away from his brother.
Hannibal rolled his eyes in annoyance. He would be lying if he said he had no idea where Murdoc got such a sour attitude.
“Ah well, fuck you too.”
Hannibal stepped past Murdoc, his boots crunching the gravel beneath him. He tightened the grip on the bag strap that hung loosely off his shoulder.
He took a few experimental steps on the hard ground before planting his feet and biting his nervous lip.
He couldn’t do this. It was all too much. He can’t leave behind everything in the blink of an eye. That was heartless, and Hannibal was far too fucking attached.
He’s attached to this rusty, run-down house.
He’s attached to his god awful father and the snippets of affection he received over the last 18 years of his life.
And, he’s attached to that annoying little ankle-biter he calls his brother. Leaving him behind to fend for himself seemed cruel.
After everything they had been through too? Hell, Hannibal got arrested for Murdoc’s sake and now he was ditching him like a monster.
He could turn back now but at what costs? Hannibal didn’t wanted to imagine Sebastian’s smug face as he degraded him with a beating shortly afterwards. Even now as an adult the childish fear he held against his father remains.
“You don’t have to leave, y’know..” Murdoc’s meek voice invaded Hannibal’s thoughts.
Hs turned around and stared at the smaller boy picking at the loose pieces of wood on the porch.
“I’ve been kicked out, I have to go. Sorry you won’t have a babysitter anymore, dickweed.” He didn’t mean to add an insult at the end but it just sorta happens every time he speaks to Murdoc.
Murdoc scrunched up his nose and looked up to stare at his brother, “But do you really wanna go? You’ll be starving out there!”
Hannibal was already starving from his poor living conditions here so that didn’t really matter.
“I’ll manage. Just do me a favor and piss off before that old geezer hears you talking to me. You want a beating tonight?” Hannibal cocked his head and stared at Murdoc’s younger eyes.
The smaller Niccals boy shut his mouth quickly with a slight huff.
“That’s what I thought. See you never, fuckface.”
Hannibal waved his hand carelessly as a good bye and turned around again to finally leave. His doubt still there but now pushed to the back of his mind.
He heard the creak of the wood as Murdoc stood up and waited to hear the door click open but nothing ever came. Instead sudden little footsteps quickly made their way closer to Hannibal. His brain not registering fast enough that Murdoc was right there until smaller arms were wrapped around his leg.
Murdoc rubbed his face into the side of Hannibal’s jacket and embraced his older brother in an impulsive hug.
“What the-“ The sudden impact shook Hannibal slightly. He stared down at the mop of black hair holding him in a death grip.
It was kinda sweet?
Unsure if he should hug him back or not Hannibal set his hand on the top of Murdoc’s head and gave it a few affectionate pats.
They hadn’t hugged in years. Not since the whole lunch lady incident. But this wasn’t the same kind of hug, it didn’t feel like the same kind of sadness from before, this one felt bittersweet.
Murdoc finally relaxed his grip and lifelessly let go of Hannibal leg and allowed his arms to dangle there. Head still supporting itself on Hannibal’s side.
There was a shaky sniff from Murdoc, followed by him turning his face away from his brothers view.
Hannibal didn’t ask or try to look to see if the boy was crying. He didn’t need to know. It would hurt more if he did.
“Happy birthday, Hannibal.” Murdoc finally mustered out after minutes of silence. His voice only slightly creaky as if he was holding back the floodgates.
“Thanks, ‘Doc.” Hannibal replied with a softer tone than usual.
“Will you remember me when you’re gone?”
The question had struck the older boy somewhere he didn’t know he had. God, Murdoc was making this harder than it needed to be.
He swallowed thickly and nodded slightly, the regret starting to seep in.
“Yeh, I think I will.”
With a few beats of silence between them Murdoc finally pulled away from his resting position and stared down at the ground. He brought his sleeve up to wipe what Hannibal could only assume to be tears.
“Ok now get out of here.” Murdoc croaked, still not bothering to make eye contact.
“Right.” Hannibal concluded and turned away like none of that had happened. He thinks Murdoc wanted it that way.
Taking a few more strides away from the boy he stopped one last time. Now on the edge of where their gravel trail and sidewalk meet, he turned his head to look over his shoulder and flashed Murdoc a toothy smile.
The younger boy had looked up a few seconds prior to watch his brother walk away. The tears now dried but still threatened to spill at any moment.
“Love ya, Murdoc. I said I’ll never see you again but I’m sure we’ll meet again. Stay safe, mate.”
Hannibal smiled one last time and stepped onto the sidewalk to begin his duration to wherever the fuck his feet take him. Officially leaving his pathetic life behind to start a new one.
Murdoc stood there with his hands squeezing tightly into a fist.
God, he wanted to punch him. Punch him for leaving. Punch him for wearing a smug face even though he was filled with remorse. Punch him for every little thing he ever did to Murdoc.
But he couldn’t, at least not for a long while.
The tears were returning and Murdoc knew it, but he still stood there in a tense position. He wanted to scream and yell but his lungs remained tight with this newly tense demeanor.
There were too many mixed emotions flooding his childish brain. It was overwhelming and Murdoc didn’t know how to cure it besides letting it pass.
When he finally unclenched his fists and relaxed, he was able to take a breath in what felt like years.
Knowing fully well Hannibal had already walked away and wouldn’t be able to hear anything, Murdoc still let the faintest whisper exit his mouth,
“I love you too, Hannibal. Come back again, one day. Please.”
