Work Text:
Ryland sat on the floor in his uncle’s house, knees pulled up to his chest, and looked out the window to a clear, blue sky. He missed the rainy days in Florida, watching the drops flow down the glass. Colt always tried to make it into a competition. Whose raindrop would win?
California had too much sun, too much dry weather. Holland’s house was nice, nicer than Ryland’s previous house had been, but it wasn’t the same in the slightest. The rooms were all wrong; the trees were different – there wasn’t enough open space. His bottom lip trembled as he gripped his legs tighter.
Florida wasn’t great, neither was living with his father, but at least Florida had Court. Ryland didn’t know much about what happened to his older brother, only that he wasn’t going to get to see the other anymore. That night had been so foggy. Each time Ryland tried to grasp at the memories they evaded him, like he was grasping smoke.
Colt told him not to worry about it. Court was strong; he could get through anything. One day they’d all be able to see each other again – they’d be a family. Ryland may have only been six, but he was smart enough to know that probably wasn’t going to happen.
“Ryland? Where are you, buddy?” Uncle Holland called after him.
Holland was okay. Ryland and Colt never saw him very much before, mostly because he lived on the other side of the country. The man was their mom’s brother, someone their father used to talk down to a lot. Ryland didn’t understand why. From everything he’d seen about his uncle the man was great. He took in Ryland and Colt without question. Apparently if that didn’t happen they were going to be tossed into the foster care system. Ryland was very happy that didn’t happen.
He didn’t respond to the man’s question as he continued to look out the window. The sun was only just beginning to fade – it was dinner time. That was probably why his uncle called after him.
The bedroom door creaked open. “There you are.” Holland had a dopey look on his face as he walked into the room. He usually did though. There was an air of warmth that hung around the man – nothing like Ryland’s father. Sometimes he wondered if this was what his mom was like. Court didn’t talk about her very much, the topic made the eldest immensely sad, and it was likely that Ryland would never get to hear those stories now.
He hoped his mom was as sweet as Holland was. Ryland didn’t want to think the opposite was even possible. He inched forward a little, scooting closer to the window. “I’m not hungry.” Now that wasn’t entirely true. His stomach didn’t ache with the violent sort of hunger he often experienced at home – not that he would have ever told Court that – but he wasn’t satisfied. Ryland didn’t want to inconvenience anyone though, nor did he really want to get up. Sure, the blazing sun wasn’t the best, but it was better than stepping out of the room and remembering where exactly he was.
This wasn’t his home. Florida wasn’t really either, but at least it was familiar.
Ryland placed his chin on his knees to stop himself from whimpering. He was a big kid and big kids didn’t cry. That’s what the boys at his new school said on his first day when Ryland all but threw a fit. At least him and Colt were in the same class now. He didn’t think he’d be able to handle all this if he was separated from his twin too.
Holland sighed and sat down next to him. “You’re gonna be hungry later.”
“I’m fine.” He wasn’t. Nothing was fine in the slightest. Tears pricked in the corner of his eyes.
Holland hovered beside him. He’d never been the best at comforting others; his daughter was far better. Holly was currently at her friend's house though – Jessica or someone like that. She was nice. Ryland liked her.
He looked at the clouds in the sky, tracing out the shapes with his gaze.
Holland didn’t leave the room, even though Ryland wasn’t really saying a single word to him. Maybe the man was used to that. Ryland didn’t know much about his uncle’s personal life – he did know the man had a wife at some point, but that she died. He also knew that there was a man, Healy, that Holland ran a private investigation firm with. Healy spent a lot of time at the March residence, so much so that Ryland was pretty sure he was going to move in any day now.
The boy tapped his fingers along his knees, stomach churning with hunger. No matter what, he couldn’t find it within himself to stand. “I’m not going to see Court again.” It wasn’t a question, it didn’t need to be. Maybe it would have been better to live without the confirmation, but at the same time Ryland desperately needed it.
Holland mumbled something under his breath. “I’m going to do whatever I need to, bud.”
“He’s across the country.” The odds were stacked against Ryland and Colt. The chances of ever seeing Court again was practically zero, so infinitesimally small it might as well be zero.
“You’re killing me kid.” The man rubbed a hand across his face, the paler one – apparently he’d broken it and the cast had only recently come off. “Family’s important, and I’ll be damned if yours gets split up for good.”
Ryland didn’t want to say that it already had. His family split apart the moment he was born, tragically enough. When his mother died something vile grew within his father, a spite so dangerous it would lead to his own death. He didn’t know what it was like to live in anything that wasn’t a broken home. A split family was just the norm.
The boy shrugged as he listened to Holland’s words, voice too unsteady.
Holland raised his hand and hovered it over Ryland’s shoulder.
Ryland stilled for a moment, heart heavy in his chest. Then, at near breakneck speed, he buried himself in his uncle’s arms. The only people he’d ever hugged was Colt and Court. Maybe there was one day, for a brief moment, where he’d been hugged by his mother, but that had been such a long, long time ago. Tears sprung from his eyes, drenching the front of Holland’s shirt. He mumbled an apology into the man’s chest, but his uncle just shushed him.
Holland rubbed small circles into Ryland’s back. “It’s going to be okay, kid. I’m not leaving you; you’re not going anywhere.”
Ryland wished he could believe those words. Sometimes he really hated being smart.
***
Going to a new school was awful. The classrooms were different. The students were different. The teachers were different. Everything was different. Ryland hated it with a burning passion as soon as he stepped onto the school grounds. Holland dropped the boys off, along with Healy. Holly decided she was too old to be dropped off by her dad so she’d gone to school on the bus. Ryland almost wished he and Colt had done the same so they could have found a way to skip.
People would have asked too many questions though.
Usually, Ryland liked school. He had actually been excited not too long ago at the prospect of starting first grade. That was where the real learning was supposed to start, hence why they had tried to move him up a grade back in Florida. Now, he just wanted to stay at Holland’s house and forget the rest of the world existed.
If Colt was nervous he didn’t show it. He always put on a brave face in front of anybody — he’d even done so in front of their father and that was the scariest man Ryland had ever met. Colt led Ryland down the halls and introduced both of them to the class when Ryland’s voice all but died on his tongue.
Things were going alright, or rather as alright as they could be given the circumstances. That was until recess.
Ryland made sure to take a book with him as the class went out to the playground and blacktop. He scoped out the scene to make sure there was someplace he could sit and read. The last thing he wanted was to actually have to play on the playground. That sounded awful.
His eyes lit up as Colt pulled him off to the side of the blacktop in a little patch of grass where there was an empty picnic bench. “Here, Ry!” Colt was quick to sit down right next to him.
Ryland cracked open his book with a smile. He couldn’t help but notice the way Colt stared off at the other kids playing games like soccer — poorly — or basketball — even worse. “You can play. I’ll be okay.”
Colt pouted. “I’m not going to leave you.” His brow pinched together in the most serious expression a six year old could make.
“I’m just reading.” It was actually easier to read without Colt bouncing around next to him. Ryland knew he could be a bit hyperactive at times, but Colt was on a different level. Court had said something about that once, but then they dropped the topic pretty quickly. Ryland nudged Colt slightly. “Go play basketball.”
Colt only moved an inch. “You sure?”
“I’m sure.” Ryland wanted to get back to his reading on Jupiter’s moons as soon as possible — it was a book Court had gotten him.
“Okay.” Colt finally stood up from the bench. “I’ll be back soon!” He bolted off into the distance, calling out to those already playing basketball and asking if he could join.
Ryland smiled. Time to finally get some reading time in. He quickly became absorbed.
“Look at the weirdo.”
Ryland flinched at the sudden noise. He looked up and standing around the picnic table was a couple of boys from his class. “Hi.” He could hear Court’s voice in his head telling him not to engage, just got back to whatever he was doing before and they’d leave him alone. People just wanted a reaction.
One of the boys went to grab his book, but Ryland was quick to snatch it away. “That’s mine.”
Another boy stuck out his tongue and shoved Ryland to the bench. “Well, Mark wants it.”
Mark was annoying. There was another scramble for the book, but this time Mark was faster. He held up the book with a disgusted look. “You’re a loser!” Mark flipped through the pages roughly. “No wonder no one wants to be your friend.”
Ryland struggled against the grip of the other two boys. “Give it back!” Where were the teachers? Where was Colt?
Mark looked him right in the eye as he took on page in hand. “Have it.” He tore the page clean out.
The boy repeated the action with page after page, balling them up and tossing them towards Ryland.
That was enough. As the boys were laughing with each other, Ryland snapped out of the hands holding him back and lunged towards Mark. Court’s words whispered in his head once more. His older brother taught him the right way to throw a punch.
Ryland’s fist met Mark's nose, immediately sending the boy staggering back.
Pain bloomed across Ryland’s knuckles, but he didn’t worry — Court already warned him of that part.
“Ry, Ry!” Colt came barreling over, breaking through the swarm of people Ryland hadn’t even noticed had gathered.
A nervous pit formed in his stomach. What a terrible first day.
***
Ryland sat next to Colt in the back of Holland’s car. Healy was there, apparently they’d been mulling over case notes at the house when the call from the school came. Holland gripped the steering wheel as they sat in the parking lot, still not having moved an inch. The man sighed. “Alright, I want you two’s side of the story now.”
There was the flick of a lighter as Holland tucked a cigarette between his lips.
Healy ripped it out. “Not in front of the kids, March.”
“Shi-“ Holland placed two fingers over his mouth. “Right.” The man twisted in his seat. “So what happened?”
Colt crossed his arms over his chest. “They were making fun of Ryland.”
Ryland turned away and looked out the window. He didn’t want to think about it, and he really didn’t want to think about the ruined book in his backpack.
“Is that true?” Holland pushed up his sunglasses that dangled on his nose.
Ryland shrugged. His knuckles still stung; the school nurse hadn’t done that good of a job.
Healy sighed in the front seat. “I don’t think the kid’s lying. ‘Sides, this kind of stuff happens all the time.”
Ryland burrowed deeper into himself. He sure hoped it wasn’t going to happen all the time. He hated Mark and all of his friends for what they’d done. They thought they could get away with anything because this was their school, Ryland and Colt were outsiders now. That had never happened before.
Holland huffed. “The principal didn’t mention that part.” He reached back and asked to see Ryland’s hand.
Ryland held it out.
“You really did a number on yourself.” Holland squinted. “Your brother teach you?”
Ryland gave a curt nod. There was no questioning which brother had done so.
Holland looked between the twins. “Alright, when we get home I’m going to have a very long conversation with this school of yours.”
“March.”
“It’s fine,” he waved off Healy. “And I know I should be saying you shouldn’t start fights, but I think those assholes deserved it.”
“March,” Healy’s voice hardened.
“It’s the truth, Jack.” Holland reached both hands back in a somewhat awkward manner. The pinkies in both his hands were extended. “Promise me you two will be on your best behavior though.”
Colt easily linked his finger with Holland’s. Ryland took a moment. It wasn’t that he thought he was going to start acting out all of the time, not at all, but the action felt so heartfelt that his stomach churned again.
Slowly, he reached forward and wrapped his pinky around his uncle’s. “Promise.”
Holland grinned. “Great, and I promise that I’m not gonna let anything happen to you two.” The three of them sealed their promises and withdrew their hands. The man slumped back in his seat. “Your mother would have been so proud of her boys.”
Ryland hoped Holland meant all of them, even Court. He hoped she would have been proud to see how the eldest protected his young brothers, how he risked everything and more for them — Ryland knew he was.
The car started with a low hum, and they began the drive back home, the radio playing faintly in the background.
Colt snuck his hand over the leather seat and placed it over Ryland’s. He leaned to whisper in his brother's ear. “I promise I’m gonna protect you. All the time, Ry.”
He sealed it with a pinky promise — that was the most sacred of promises after all.