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His feet hit the ground hard, splashing water up his legs as he runs.
Another foster home, another place he needed to run from. Miss Juniper would not be happy when it inevitably came out that he ran away again but he was fine with that. She always dealt with it and he got another placement. Even if he didn’t want one; didn’t need one.
He scurries into an alleyway and the rain stops almost instantly. This particular alley was a familiar one, one he often used when he needed a relatively safe and dry place. There was a really nice overhang he would often sleep under on these sorts of nights. It was nicer than trying to spend a night in a place like that.
Gregory never wanted to sleep another night in a place like that. He was tired of foster homes like that. The ones that drained him for all he was worth. The ones overcrowded and under funded. The ones he had to listen to children cry in. He never cried. Not in places like that.
So, he finds his little place tucked away in the corner and pushes aside the wood barricade. Well, maybe calling it a barricade was a little too much. It wasn’t much more than some plywood blocking the entrance to the tiny hole in the wall that led to a tiny room. It was barely enough to get some blankets in there, but it was dry. It may have been a maintenance tunnel once. No one knew about it. No one entered it. Not even Miss Juniper who knew almost everything about his life.
She knew he had a family once but never told Gregory the name of his parents. Or, even parent. He could live if he just knew his moms name. To know there was someone once. Anyone who cared about him.
Slowly, as the rain rattles against the wood and seeps into his makeshift shelter he closes his eyes and tries to sleep, pulling the blankets tighter around him.
-
He jolts awake as a particularly loud crack of thunder lights up the whole room. He sits upright with a heavy breath as he stares out the window at the tree scraping at it. His eyes begin to frantically scan his surroundings and he grabs his Foxy plushy to bring into his arms, tight against his chest. He backs up to the headboard of his bed and curls under his blankets a bit more.
His bedroom is a bit sparse. They couldn’t afford much. He had some toys he neglected to clean up scattered around and a beanbag in the corner his dad had splurged on to get him. He was a bit jealous of other kids who had a ton of fancy stuff and new toys, but he loved his dad and wouldn’t change this for anything.
Another roll of thunder shakes the walls and Gregory startles again. He pets down the fur of Foxy, old and worn but softer because of that. He was a well loved plushy.
Gregory wasn’t really supposed to bother his dad much. He worked very hard every day and sometimes didn’t come home until very late, long after Gregory already went to bed. But he calls out regardless when another strike of lightning hits and lights up his whole room.
“Dad!” He calls out into the replaced darkness. He caught a glimpse of his room and there were no shadows around. Nothing that looked scary. Gregory even caught a peek at his drawn picture of himself and his dad with Freddy. He had been really proud of that picture.
There’s no rushing footsteps, just a quiet click of his door and a figure in the doorway. There’s not much light but Gregory can still tell what it is that moves in the darkness.
Another flash of lightning reveals it.
The gaunt face that stared at him is utterly terrifying. Teeth poking out of pulled back lips. Hallowed eyes and sunken cheeks and unnatural looking skin. There is no nose like the villain in a book Gregory read once. It’s terrifying to catch only a brief look at the face that stares at him from the darkness. Most children would scream for their father louder.
Gregory is comforted instantly.
“You alright, superstar?” His dad asks him, bringing up a hand over his rotten skin and through what remains of his hair, shaggy on his head. He has a mask he wore—he called it a pros-the-tic but big words like that were hard for Gregory—whenever he was working and bandages he wrapped around his arms where his bones poke the surface of his skin. But, he never wore them in their home. He didn’t need to. Gregory wasn’t afraid of him at all.
Gregory nods frantically, already feeling sorry for waking him. He looks worn out, tired. Regardless, he walks into the room and takes a seat on Gregory’s bed. He reaches out and grabs onto the shirt his dad wears to bed.
“I got scared. I’m okay now,” he reassures his dad as he shuffles under the covers of his warm bed to curl closer to his dad. He continues to pet Foxy who was not his favourite character. Freddy was his favourite but the plushy was his dads which meant more to him than Freddy.
His dad nods slowly, raising a hand to pat his head. Gregory turns his head down and accepts it easily.
His dad smiles a little which stretches his skin unnaturally over his cheeks. Then his face droops a little. “Was it because I was so home late today?”
Gregory shakes his head slowly, realizing what his dad meant. “It was the lightning,” he says, pointing out the window as the tree continues to scrape down his window. His dad nods and turns back to look at him gently. He slowly scoots himself up the bed so that he can sit against the headboard with Gregory, reaching out an arm to wrap around him.
Gregory is more than happy to snuggle into his side.
“If I ever do anything that scares you, you need to tell me.” His dad rubs a hand up and down his shoulder as they sit together, staring over Gregory’s head at the wall.
His dad was like that a lot. He always said he was just thinking but he got really sad when he did. Gregory never knew what he was thinking about to make him so sad. Gregory got sad sometimes when he thought about his bullies in class. Did his dad get bullied? That made Gregory even sadder to think about. He didn’t want his dad to be bullied.
“You never scare me!” Gregory declares happily. It makes his dad smile again, just a little. Apparently most kids were scared of his dad which is why he had a pros-the-tic to cover it while he was at work. Even adults didn’t like his face. Gregory really likes it though. He looked unique. “I’m just scared of other things sometimes.”
“That so?” His dad asks him, running his thin, frail, hand through Gregory’s hair. He nods, feeling his dads chest tremble with a laugh. “Here’s a deal then; any time you’re scared you call for me and I’ll come running. Got it?”
“You always come when I’m scared,” Gregory says, snuggling more into his dads side with a small yawn. “Do you ever get scared?” He’s beginning to drift off, sleepily laying on his dad.
“Sometimes, but don’t worry about that. Tomorrow is another day,” he dad whispers to him as he drifts off again. They would get up early in the morning so his dad could drop him off at his daycare and his dad would go to work. Gregory would be picked up at the usual time. “I hope I can be there with you when it arrives.”
“I’ll be there when you’re scared,” Gregory tells his dad, because no one deserved to be scared alone. He would wake up with his dad and he would do that for his whole life. For tonight he falls asleep in his dads arms. He would do that forever as well, even when he was all grown up.
Gregory wakes up, truly wakes up, in the reality where he is living on the streets without anyone who loved him like the man in his dreams did. He was cold. Not cold in the way he had been in his dream. It’s more like the rain had seeped into his little hidden room and covered him entirely. He’s shivering.
He’s afraid. He bundles up the blanket around him and curls under it. He’s shivering only partially due to the cold. He’s mostly afraid, though. He’s never been afraid of the dark, or the rain, but the storm battering on the walls outside is pounding in his head. He’s alone. No one should have to be alone while they’re scared.
That… person had promised him. In his dreams he had been promised. If he ever called that man would come. That person who looked like a rotting corpse but Gregory felt safe around. He opens his mouth, then closes it as tears begin to form in his eyes.
He was afraid of what would happen if he tried.
“Dad?” He calls out softly into the room. He waits, listening closely for any footsteps to approach. He only hears the rain outside. The word barely feels real in his mouth. Unnatural. He’s never used the word in his life.
He tries again. “Dad?” A bit louder this time, and he looks around the room. None of the shadows around him are human shaped. He’s still alone. No one was coming for him.
That person was a liar. He wasn’t coming even though Gregory had called for him twice. He was a liar. How dare he? How dare he lie like that? He feels something settle in his throat and chokes as he breathes out slowly.
He folds his body forward and grieves a life he wishes he knew better than a few, fleeting moments. The faintness of a dream.