Work Text:
Working late was not unusual for Titch, but it was becoming rarer.
Just over a year ago, James had left to pursue his fledgling football career and Derek’s bumbling presence had quickly filled the silence that James had left in the farmhouse. Since then, Titch had increasingly gone to bed at the same time as Derek, seeking much-desired comfort in the arms of his lover.
Eight months ago, Titch’s life was turned upside down once again with a single, hesitant knock at his door. There hadn’t been any children living at the farmhouse since Titch and James were kids but the sudden arrival of Johnny and Janae on their doorstep had triggered a series of events Titch had never seen coming, resulting in him and Derek becoming surprised but not unwelcome parents.
With the arrival of the children, Titch’s late night accounting had taken a backseat in favour of playing games with his family and then carefully putting the boys to bed before curling up on the sofa with Derek to watch a film after a long day.
However, harvest season meant late nights, even if Titch was less willing to do them any more.
Burning the midnight oil, Titch was scribbling furiously in an accounts folder, making plans for a massive county-wide sale he was due to close in the next few days. The farmhouse was dark and silent at nearly midnight with the only sound being the soft ticking of the grandfather clock and the occasional, distant shout of a wild fox in the countryside.
That was until the almost inaudible squeak of the wooden stairs just outside the office door: the effects of an old and creaky farmhouse.
“Johnny?” Titch called out into the darkness. He wasn’t sure when he’d become able to identify each member of his little family by their footsteps in the night but it served him well. Derek walked with long strides and a slightly uneven gait, Janae tiptoed barely making a noise, and Johnny shuffled - as if he was apologising for his very presence. The soft shifting sound of socks over carpet could mean only one thing.
“Johnny? Are you okay?” Titch put his pen down and went to stand but, before he could push his chair back from his desk, the heavy wooden door was nudged open. Lit only by the orange glow from Titch’s office lamp, the slight frame of the teenager shuffled into view. He had a fluffy grey and red blanket wrapped tightly around his shoulders and his slightly too big pyjamas hung loosely around his wrists and ankles. His dirty blonde hair was sticking up at odd angles and flopping down over his eyes, which were red rimmed with tears.
“You alright?” Titch asked quietly, before chastising himself: the boy was standing in his office with a tear-streaked face at just before midnight, of course he wasn’t alright. “Did you have another future dream?”
Johnny didn’t answer, but instead just shuffled uncomfortably in the doorway purposefully avoiding Titch’s eye.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Titch closed up the folder in which he’d been writing and shut it away in the top drawer of his desk.
With a simple shake of his head, Johnny sniffed loudly and roughly wiped his eyes on his pyjama sleeve.
“If you tell me about it, then we can do something to help, can’t we?” Titch suggested slowly. “If you tell me what the dream was about, we can make some changes to make sure it doesn’t come true. That’s what we usually do, and have I ever let you down before?”
“It wasn’t a future dream,” Johnny whimpered, his high-pitched voice cracking with a sob. “It was about the past.”
“Oh, Johnny,” Titch stood up and carefully made his way towards Johnny who took a worried step back into the hallway as he approached, fear flashing in his eyes. “Can you tell me what happened?”
“No.” Johnny shrugged his blanket further up his shoulders and pulled it closer around his tiny frame.
“Shall we have some tea?” Titch suggested quietly. With a small nod and a big sniff, Johnny rubbed his eyes again and looked down at his feet.
“Come on then,” Titch said. He gently guided the still sniffling Johnny to the large sofa in the living room and got him settled at one end. Wrapping the fluffy blanket closer around the boy, Titch stroked his hair and smiled gently down at him, noticing the absolute lack of reaction from Johnny who was still avoiding his gaze.
Titch headed for the kitchen, leaving Johnny to pull his legs up beneath him onto the sofa and curl further into himself.
Titch had always appreciated that Johnny was an open book when it came to his emotions - it made a nice contrast from his little brother. Janae, with his mannerisms and cadence well beyond his years, was a mystery, wrapped inside an enigma, stuck in the body of an eight year old boy. But Johnny, there hadn’t been a moment in the past eight months that Titch hadn’t known precisely what Johnny was feeling.
Since the day the boys had arrived on the farm and come crashing into his and Derek’s life, Titch had become quite accustomed to Johnny’s heightened emotions - the immense highs and lows that he seemed to feel far deeper than the average fifteen year old. At first, Titch had been worried by this, it made Johnny appear much younger than his true age but very quickly he’d come to accept that he was simply Johnny, that’s who he was.
But for Titch, that made the present situation increasingly concerning. Johnny wasn’t one for skirting around his feelings or avoiding Titch’s gentle probing. He’d always been very open with his dreams and willing to let Titch talk him down in the many instances when he’d woken the man up in such a state. But tonight, he was different.
With the kettle boiled and tea made in Johnny’s favourite mug, Titch made his way back to Johnny who was still curled up in a ball, his face buried in his blanket.
“Here you go, pumpkin.” Titch dropped down on the sofa beside Johnny and handed him his tea, feeling a small jolt of warmth run through him as Johnny smiled at the little crocodile mug cradled in his hands. He took a sip and placed it carefully on the coffee table before wrapping his arms back around himself.
“Come here,” Titch sighed, reaching over to pull Johnny into a hug. Hugs were Johnny’s safe space, the tighter the better. Since day one after arriving on the aubergine farm, Johnny had been more tactile than Titch had ever expected and once his future dreams had kicked in with full force, a good hug was a sure-fire way to bring Johnny’s high back down.
As soon as Titch’s arms came up around Johnny, the boy flinched and turned away to curl in on himself, avoiding the touch entirely.
“No,” he sobbed. “I don’t deserve a hug.”
“What do you mean?” Titch leant down to try and catch Johnny’s eye but the boy simply buried his head deeper into his blanket. “Can you tell me what’s upset you, John?”
“No,” Johnny sobbed.
“Why not?” Titch asked. “You can tell me anything.”
“I can’t tell you,” Johnny whimpered. “Janae would ki- he’d be really angry with me.”
“Look here, I’ll deal with Janae,” Titch said sternly. “If he’s angry with you, he’ll have me to answer to, okay? But you need to tell me what’s going on.”
“I can’t.”
“I’ll deal with Janae, he’s not-”
“It’s not just Janae,” Johnny sobbed noisily, his voice cracking as he spoke. “You won’t- You and Derek-”
“Take a deep breath for me,” Titch said, rubbing Johnny’s back gently through the soft blanket. He felt Johnny’s back rise and fall with a heavy, shuddering breath.
“You and Derek won’t love me anymore,” Johnny squeaked out.
With that, Titch felt his heart break.
If someone had asked him two years ago what he loved, he’d have said aubergines. One year ago and he’d have said aubergines and also Derek. But the very moment those two lads had appeared at the door of his farmhouse, it was as if the world around him had closed up and all he could see was his little family: Derek and the boys.
“We will always love you,” Titch murmured quietly, continuing to rub the boy’s back as sobs wracked through his body. “Tell me what’s wrong, and I can help you. I love you so much.”
“You won’t love me when I’m in prison,” said Johnny, his high pitched voice ringing out into the silent darkness of the farmhouse.
“Oh, pumpkin, come here.” Titch tried again to pull Johnny into his arms but the boy once again hunched over the arm of the sofa away from him, going one step further and shoving Titch’s arms away from him with force.
“You don’t love me,” he cried.
The familiar sting of tears burnt in Titch’s eyes as he pulled away from Johnny and watched the boy shake with fear and frustration and sadness.
“I do.” Titch’s voice cracked with distress. “I always will, I promise!”
Johnny paused his sobbing and stilled beneath his little blanket. His red and blotchy face appeared as he slid out of his blanket cocoon, and he blinked up at Titch from beneath his fluffy blonde hair.
“You promise?” He whispered.
“Promise.”
Johnny sighed and unfurled his legs, turning to face Titch. He took a deep breath and Titch steeled himself for what was about to come.
“Janae told you about the fire, didn’t he?” Johnny asked, a slight waiver still lacing his voice.
“At your neighbour’s house? Yeah, he said.” Titch nodded.
“When the fire was happening, Daddy was playing football with the neighbour,” Johnny sniffled. “Mummy and Daddy just left us in the house while it was burning.”
“I know.” Titch had been told this by Janae within minutes of meeting him, but Johnny rarely even mentioned his parents.
“That’s why we ended up here, they didn’t look after us very well.” Johnny was fiddling with the corner of a sofa cushion, pulling the threads repeatedly between his fingers. “The neighbour’s wife died in the fire.”
“I know.” Titch had been told this as well, not by Janae though. He and Derek had sat through many meetings with the boys’ social worker where the subject of their previous life had come up, and the death of their neighbour had featured rather heavily in those discussions. The boys had never mentioned it, and therefore Titch hadn’t felt it right to bring it up either. Until now, in the inky black darkness of the farmhouse as the big grandfather clock struck twelve.
“Janae thinks her name was Angela,” Johnny whispered, “but it wasn’t. She was called Abigail.”
The tears that had momentarily paused along Johnny’s waterline began to fall once more as he gasped and shook.
“Here, angel, let’s clean you up,” Titch said softly. He reached and took a tissue from the box on the coffee table and carefully dabbed at Johnny’s watery eyes and wiped his nose before softly brushing his hair from his face.
“We started the fire,” Johnny whispered. Titch’s hand froze as he stroked through his hair.
“What?” Titch asked into the silence.
“Me and Janae. We set the fire.” Johnny’s confession sent a chill down Titch’s spine, wherever he thought this late-night conversation was going, he still didn’t see it coming.
“The neighbour’s house? You set the fire?” Titch questioned.
Johnny simply nodded and let silence fall between the two of them. Just as Titch was opening his mouth to speak, Johnny let out a heart-wrenching cry.
“I’m sorry!” He sobbed. “I’m sorry, Titch, I’ve let you down.”
“You haven’t, you haven’t.” Titch wrapped his arms around the boy but was shoved away with increasing ferocity.
“You hate me,” Johnny screeched. As he often did when he was experiencing high emotions, Johnny’s hands flailed in his lap as he hit his thighs with closed fists. Usually, Titch would try to calm his movement but any attempt to touch Johnny had gone badly, so he did his best to restrain himself.
“You hate me, I’m a murderer!” Johnny’s voice hit a shout, which rang out like a shot in the silence of the dark countryside.
“Sshhh.” Titch didn’t know what to do. He flailed uselessly at Johnny’s side as the boy writhed and sobbed in anguish.
“I killed her!” Johnny shouted as he sobbed into his blanket, pulling it up to cover his face entirely. “I kill-”
“Ssshhhh, it’s okay!” Sliding himself off the sofa, Titch knelt in front of Johnny but found he was unable to find any words to comfort him. At a loss for anything to say, he pulled Johnny hands from his lap to stop the violent hitting against his legs, before wrapping his arms entirely around Johnny’s waist and pulling the frail boy into his lap. “It’s okay, angel, it’s okay! Sshhhh.”
With Johnny secured firmly in his arms, Titch squeezed and squeezed tighter, knowing Johnny’s overwhelming need for grounding in this moment was the only thing that could bring him back down.
Titch could feel his entire body jolting with each gasping sob Johnny let out against his shoulder. His breath was warm against Titch’s neck and tears began to seep into Titch’s shirt. Keeping his breathing steady despite his racing heart rate, Titch ran his hands up and down Johnny’s back and kept him held tight into his chest.
“You’re okay,” Titch whispered with a kiss to Johnny’s hairline. “That’s it, nice and calm, okay?”
Slowly but surely, Johnny’s breathing slowed to match Titch’s and despite the incessant sniffing, Johnny seemed to have calmed with the close embrace.
“I’m really sorry,” Johnny whispered shakily into Titch’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, we didn’t mean to-”
“I know you didn’t,” Titch reassured him. “Of course you didn’t, Johnny, I know you didn’t mean to.”
“We just-” Johnny took a deep breath and continued. “Mummy was doing… things… with the neighbour and we had to make them stop. W-we wanted to make a distraction, to make them stop, but it got a bit out of hand.”
“I know,” Titch said quietly.
“I’m really sorry, Titch,” Johnny whispered.
“Who was it that lit the fire?” Titch asked. “Was it you or Janae?”
“Janae did it, using his lighter. But we both agreed to it, I killed her too.” Momentarily, Titch thought Johnny was about to crash back into his sobbing mess but after a deep breath his high-pitched voice came out even clearer than before. “I wanted to phone Daddy but Janae suggested a fire and that sounded better. But when the fire started, we ran away and went back to ours to tell Mummy and the neighbour. Then, it got out of hand and then she was… I’m really sorry, I know you’re going to phone the police and they’ll take me away. I’m sorry, Titch. Really, I am!”
“I’m not going to tell anyone, Johnny,” Titch said with a sigh, burying his face into the boy’s unruly curls.
“What?” Johnny sobbed.
“I’m not going to tell the police, okay?”
“Why? I need to go to prison!”
“Look at me, darling.” Titch turned Johnny’s head gently to face him and caught sight of his brilliant blue eyes for the first time that night as he blinked back at him. “Can you make me a promise, Johnny? Promise me you won’t touch fire ever again?”
“Absolutely promise!” Johnny said suddenly.
“And promise me that if Janae comes up with an idea like this again, you tell me straight away, okay?”
“I promise, Titch, I really do!” Johnny nodded intently and snuggled into Titch’s chest with a sigh.
“Please don’t tell Janae that I told you?”
Titch cuddled into Johnny’s side and opened his mouth to find the right words. He would have to speak to Janae about this, he knew he’d have to bring it up because how could he not? The boys he had welcomed in as his own, raised as his own for the past eight months, had been hiding such a massive secret. Suddenly, the emotions, the night terrors, the fears the boys had shared with them all made sense as the pieces fell into place in Titch’s head.
“Please don’t tell Janae,” Johnny begged.
But before Titch could get out the words to explain it all to Johnny, there was a creak at the living room door. The door squeaked as it was pushed open, and all too soon a familiar sight came into view: Janae in his oversized t-shirt and shorts with a blanket identical to his brother’s wrapped like a cape over his shoulders.
He shuffled into the room, his gasping breaths rattling through the silent living room. Titch and Johnny watched as the usually emotionally-disconnected Janae rubbed at his reddened eyes and sniffled into his blanket.
“Come here, pumpkin,” Titch said, opening his arms wide to Janae.
Without a word, Janae hurried across the room and threw himself down beside Titch and Johnny where the pair were cuddled together on the rug. Gathering the boy into his arms, Titch drew the brothers together and kissed them both gently on the forehead.
Janae sniffled softly into Titch’s shirt, rubbing his cheek against the soft green fabric.
“It’s okay,” Titch whispered into Janae’s hair. “It’s all going to be alright.”
“I didn’t mean to, Titch, I promise!” Janae pleaded. “I swear, I didn’t mean for her to die. I didn’t even know she was inside!”
“I know you didn’t,” Titch murmured.
“But I still did it, and it was evil. I’m evil.”
“You’re not evil, Jay!” Johnny said quickly. He extricated his arms from Titch’s deathly grip and wrapped himself around his brother, burying his face into Janae’s shoulder.
Of course he wasn’t evil. Janae was many things: he was intelligent, and hard working, and a right pain in the arse sometimes. A tiny know-it-all, a diligent student, a straight talking little boy with a vocabulary beyond his years. Titch could come up with a thousand words to describe his youngest, but ‘evil’ certainly wasn’t one of them.
“Listen, you’re not evil,” Titch said calmly. “You’re just a little boy who did something stupid. Something really, really stupid, Janae. But that doesn’t make you a bad kid.”
“Are you going to tell on us, Titch?” Janae unfurled himself from the bundle of limbs and bodies huddled together on the living room floor and gazed up at Titch, his navy blue eyes glittering with tears in the light of the orange floor lamp.
“No, angel, I’m not,” Titch reassured. “This place is your fresh start - but listen, you have to promise me Janae that nothing like this will ever happen again, okay?”
“I promise, Titch, I promise-”
“No fire,” Titch said sincerely, “no elaborate plans, no secrets.”
“We don’t need to solve our own problems anymore, Janae,” Johnny said with a gentle smile. “Titch and Derek can help us now.”
With a fervent nod of his head and an earnest smile, Janae threw his arms up around Titch’s neck. Warmth spread through Titch as the boys cuddled close into him, the weight of the pair of them in his lap grounding him solidly following the high emotion of the evening.
Titch couldn’t remember the last night he’d felt like he’d needed such grounding. The night his father died, Titch and James had held each other for the first time in their entire lives as they sat on the cold floor of the crowded hospital waiting room, arms wrapped tight around each other as they cried. The night James had left the farm to follow his footballing dreams Titch had needed grounding, but none was offered. He sat alone at the little kitchen table with his tea in the darkened farmhouse, waiting for the sun to rise and the birds calling to join him in the silence. The night that the boys had arrived unexpectedly on the doorstep and accepted their offer of a warm meal and a warm bed, Titch had needed grounding more than ever. Derek had found him pacing a hole in the office floor in the early hours and practically dragged him into bed to still the racing thoughts.
With Derek on his mind, Titch pictured him fast asleep and snoring above them, completely unaware of the bombshell of truth that had just dropped in the living room. He’d have to speak to Derek about it all, but it could wait until the morning.
Titch glanced up at the grandfather clock standing by the fireplace: twenty past midnight. He gave the emotional boys a reluctant squeeze before relaxing his grip and leaning back from them.
“Come on, you two,” he said quietly. “I think it’s bedtime, isn’t it?”
“No!” The boys exclaimed simultaneously, their fluffy blonde heads jolting up together.
“Can’t we just stay like this?” Johnny asked sincerely.
“What, all night?” Titch chuckled, rubbing the boys’ backs as they curled closer into his chest.
“What if we have more night terrors?” Janae asked. In his dark eyes, Titch could see the teasing glint of a little boy angling for what he wanted. And who was Titch to deny him?
With a deep sigh, Titch rolled his eyes.
“Do you want to come and sleep in our bed?” Titch asked. Before he could even finish his question, Janae had jumped up and was stood in front of him with an eager smile.
“My goodness, you’ve got me wrapped around your little finger, you have!” Titch chuckled as he peered up at the grinning child.
He and Johnny clambered up off the floor and began to make their way towards the stairs, but before they could make it more than a few steps, Janae had stepped in front of them and raised his arms up to Titch. Sighing, Titch scooped Janae up and hoisted him onto his hip, smiling as the boy’s head came to settle on his shoulder. He pulled Johnny’s blanket further up the older boy’s shoulders and carefully took him by the hand to lead him upstairs.
Upon pushing open his and Derek’s bedroom door, Titch was greeted by a familiar sight: Derek’s dark mop of hair sticking out from beneath their emerald green duvet and fanning across his pillow. His body rose and fell with the slow and steady breaths of somebody fast asleep and dreaming. He was illuminated only by the soft orange glow of Titch’s side night light which he was always certain to leave on as he waited for Titch’s late night work to come to an end.
Titch heart fluttered with warmth as he dropped Johnny’s hand and carefully lowered Janae to the floor and watched as the pair clambered in beside Derek. Janae immediately shuffled into Derek, placing his forehead between the man’s shoulder blades and cuddling into his back. Johnny, however, was more reluctant to settle down, choosing instead to perch awkwardly at the foot of the bed with his blanket cradled on his lap.
“Titch?” A gruff voice emerged from the bundle of duvet, still deep and laced with sleep.
Derek rolled over and tried to sit up but instead found himself held down by a pair of arms much smaller than even Titch’s.
“W’as goin’ on?” Derek asked before clearing his throat.
“Titch says we can sleep in here tonight,” Janae said, not releasing his grip on Derek’s back.
Turning to face his large wooden dresser, Titch pulled out his favourite blue checked pyjama bottoms and white t-shirt and began to change as he listened to Derek and the boys talk.
“H’ve you been cryin’?” Derek asked with concern. He sat up and extricated himself from Janae’s koala grip, patting the boy gently on the back. “You alright, love?”
“We can sleep here, can’t we?” Janae questioned.
“Of course you can, love!” Derek leant forward and rubbed Johnny’s shoulder too. “You alright, John?”
“We both had night terrors,” Janae answered for him.
Johnny’s lack of reply concerned Derek enough to shoot a look over to Titch, who was just finishing pulling his shirt over his head.
“We’re all okay now, we’ll talk in the morning,” Titch said. “But right now, I think we all need some sleep, don’t we boys?”
And with that, Janae burrowed himself down beneath the sea of green duvet with Derek smiling and shuffling across to let Janae share his pillow. Titch padded over to the bed and took Johnny carefully by the hands, guiding him to lie down beside Janae before climbing in next to him.
Titch flicked off the night light and lay down beside Johnny, giving the boy enough distance to keep his own space in the crowded bed. But Johnny had other ideas, and quickly curled up into a ball with his blanket held tight to his chest before pressing forward to rest his forehead against Titch’s warm chest.
Kissing his ruffled hair softly and running a hand down Johnny’s back, Titch smiled into the darkness.
“Go to sleep now,” he whispered. “I love you two so much.”
“Two?” Derek’s sleep-addled voice called out into the darkness. “What about me?”
“I love you too,” Titch said with a chuckle. He shut his eyes and allowed his body and brain to relax into the soft bedding and the gentle breathing of his three favourite people held close to him.