C-Box

This is here just for when the invisionfree boards aren't working so that we can still talk. -nods-

thenightgoesonasimfadingaway.

ooc; This is part of the story arc that Brett came up with for Frankie and Yates. Frankie belongs to Brett and Yates is my own character. This will be the third part of the arc. Hope you like it.

His fingers shook as they looped around the neck of the near-empty bottle, trembling violently so the flattening liquid inside sloshed against the green glass. His eyes were glazed as he simply stared at the carpet before him, arms pressed against his torso so that his hands hung down between his legs. The male's chest rose and fell at a steady pace, one that could claim to be a sign of relaxation, though other things signalled that he was far from relaxed. The air was thick with a blanket of smoke, a contaminated grey with mixtures of white that had been expelled past his lips since he had arrived back home with the kids after walking them from school. But, it hadn't really felt like home.. not for a long time, not without Frankie there. It just wasn't the same and it seemed like it never would be, not after the news that he had received that morning.

Letters were something that Yates had looked forward to when they had first got a house of their own. He'd enjoyed the simplicity of something being addressed solely to him, like he held some kind of importance, even if the letter was simply some kind of advertisement or a bill. Since Frankie had left to be in the National Guard, it had turned into something more like a dread. Each time he worried that there would be something about his wife contained in one of those envelopes, informing him of her death or her disappearance. He panicked each time he saw something that looked mildly official, simply staring at the lettering of their address until his curiosity over-powered that worry and dread. He couldn't count the number of times that he had breathed a sigh of relief as he found it to be some kind of bank statement, though the numbers were hardly something to relax about.

It had been rather early in the morning that he had noticed that man standing outside of his door, wearing a uniform that made Yates' blood run cold. He was walking back from dropping Luke off at school and Felicity at a day care so that he could go to work, his shoulders hunched and gaze downcast until he reached a couple of houses before his own. He'd just stood there, staring blankly at this man, feet rooted to the spot. There were so many reasons that he could have been there, but all of them just linked back to the most important woman in his life, the woman he just couldn't live his life without. His hands had shook in his pockets, clutching against the material as he tried to ready himself for whatever this man had to say, though he remained stuck to that same piece of concrete, terror screaming through his widened eyes. He couldn't handle this, no, he really couldn't. He'd been so worried, so paranoid about each letter and each knock on the door. What if this guy brought the news that could shatter his world into a million more pieces? It wasn't like Lucas to be so terrified of simply talking to someone, but you could hardly say that it was just any person.

The uniformed man turned away from the rather worn door as he made his way to leave, aiming to perhaps leave the letter in the letter box or perhaps a number to call so the news could be explained to him. However, it only took moments for his eyes to lock with Yates', the man's expression instantly changing to a solemn look. The news he brought was written in his eyes, explaining that he was not there to inform Yates of his wife's return home or that she was safe and sound. There was a silence that hung in the air between the two strangers, only disrupted by the sound of cars on the road and the chattering neighbours that Yates had never really taken the time to get to know.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but your wife has gone missing."

It was the strangest sensation to hear those words as they fell so seemingly easily from that man's lips, the rehearsed tone only making it sound even more like the younger male's frequent nightmares. Denial hit as strongly as the silence held between the pair after the news was declared - Yates didn't make a sound. He just continued to stare, in much the same horror as he had upon first seeing this man at his doorstep. He hadn't wanted to invite him in, nor act as if everything was okay until he knew what had happened to his Francesca, his other half. So, they just stood there outside, in the cold November air whilst the words screeched relentlessly at him, ignoring his thoughts of hope. 'No, she can't be missing.' 'This isn't really happening.' 'Frankie wouldn't go missing.. she promised that she'd come home.' But it was useless.

Yates hadn't cried. He hadn't poured out his soul, fallen to the ground and begged for his wife to be found. Not even after the other man had left. He hadn't called Jason and told him of what had happened. He didn't tell anybody, not at the time. It would be like confirming that she had gone, confirming that it was even more likely that he would never see her again, that he'd never hear her voice. He'd never be able to hold her close to him, watch her smile, or kiss her. They wouldn't be able to watch their kids grow up together, interrogate Luke about his first girlfriend or laugh when Felicity came out of her room after her first attempt at putting make-up on. Yates couldn't admit that to himself, yet. He refused to allow himself to believe that those chances had risen so much more, that Frankie could be dead out there and there was nothing that he could do about it. Nothing.

Those glazed eyes continued to stare down at the dusty carpet in front of him, a mixture of anger and sadness boiling within him. He shouldn't have let her go. He should have begged her to stay. He should have held her back, clung to her so tightly that she couldn't leave. He'd tried. Oh, how he'd tried. But it had all been thrown back in his face, every word that had passed his lips and pleaded for her to stay seemed to only drive her further away. He could remember those final words that they had exchanged and he cursed his very existence each time that he thought about what he had said. What they had both said. But nothing could take it back.

"Yates, I can't alright. So just drop it."
"I can't. I can't do this without you, Francesca."

The male abruptly stood up from where he was seated on the otherwise empty couch, settling his beer bottle down on the table beside him. The only thing that seemed to mildly settle him was watching his children sleep, their peaceful expressions the only thing that was able to make him smile. Slowly, he padded his way to their daughter's room, his hands pressing against the walls to guide him through the darkened house. Felicity's night light had been left on, enlightening her gorgeous little face as she lay asleep in her small bed. The moment that Yates laid eyes on her, the smallest of smiles twitched onto his lips, his legs carrying him over to her to tuck her in and to press a small kiss to her soft forehead. She reminded him so much of her mother that it was painful at times. The child's gentle breathing was soothing, in a way, a sound that he could listen to all day and it would just relax him. After kissing his daughter on the forehead one more time, Yates moved onto his son's room, to check that the boy was asleep rather than sitting up like a lot of nine year olds did, according to some of the other parents at the PTA, a group that he had found himself despising ever since he was forced to participate in Frankie's place.

Much like his sister, though, Luke was fast asleep, his limbs stretched out over his mattress whilst his head rested just below his pillow. Yates managed a small laugh as he attempted to straighten his son out of his, what looked like, very awkward position and pulled the duvet cover over him. He was glad that they had chosen to have Luke there, and he'd grown to love him like a proper father. The situation that he had been born into wasn't the best and Yates and Frankie had thought it best to part with him. But it had seemed like the best decision in the world when they got him back. Neither of them would ever have changed their decision, even though that was the reason that Frankie had joined the National Guard in the first place. 'To make ends meet.' It was what she'd had to do to keep them afloat. Yates stood there for several moments, just watching his son sleeping before lightly ruffling his hair, tucking the duvet around him a bit more and exiting the room.

"Don't you think that I miss all of you, and the life that we have? I do, but I have a higher calling right now-"
"Then you aren't the woman I thought you were."
"What?"
"The woman that I married thought that nothing was a higher calling than her family."

It was horrible to slip into the cold bed at night, but that day was probably even more difficult than it had ever been. He hated the fact that there was no one to reach out to in the night, that Francesca wasn't there to stay close to. The soft sheets beneath him were no comfort. They weren't as soft as her hair, or as warm. Yates frowned as he drew the cover up over his chest, the back of his head pressing into the lone pillow. He hated the fact that he'd started to think of everything like this, it made him seem simply pathetic in his eyes. He'd started to relate everything to her since she had gone. The smallest of things reminded him of her though he knew he was simply burying himself further under the stresses that his life had now thrown at him. Frankie had been there for him so much since they had first met, but now she wasn't there.. he just didn't know what to do.

"What are you doing, Francesca?!"
"Since I am not the woman you want me to be, I'm leaving. Oh, and while I'm gone, maybe you can find the one you lost!"

Though his eyes were tired, he couldn't get to sleep, not with so many words and thoughts buzzing about in his head. His mind was replaying so many scenarios, things that had led up to her joining the National Guard, times at their old school, problems they had gone through but dealt with and came out shining in the end. He missed those seemingly careless days when it was like they hadn't had a worry in the world but, in reality, everything was slowly creeping up on them like a dark cloud. His head tilted slightly to look at the contents of his bedside table, ignoring those thin, foil strips and instead watching the picture that had sat by his bed for months now. Frankie had always loved that picture, even though Yates was pulling one of the strangest faces he could think of at the time. She'd always said that it was an expression that summed him up perfectly, every time that they sat and looked at it together. She looked so beautiful in that picture, and happy. It was a wonder that she had chosen to share her life with him, in Yates' opinion, and he could never deny that he was thankful.

His fingers gingerly stroked down the side of the frame, his gaze focusing on its contents. He lightly bit his lip as he remembered those last words that they had shared, the words shouted between them that never should have been spoken. He shouldn't have said it and Yates knew that from the moment that he had blurted it out, the harshest words that he could think of at the time. They were lies, of course. It had been a sentence that had made him so angry at himself, made him develop a deeper kind of self-loathing that he never thought existed. Even as he thought about it, his fingers curled around the metal frame, skin pressing hard into the sharp pattern. Why had he said that to her? God, just what was his problem?

"Fine! It's not as though I loved you, or anything!"

He gripped that picture tighter against his palm as the words crossed his mind, pain mingled with anger just bellowing out in his head. The sound of shattering glass soon filtered through the room, a metal clatter as the frame hit the floor beside the wall at the opposite end of the room. A soft pant escaped past Yates' lips as he sat up in his bed, breathing heavily, the corners of his eyes dampened as he stared at where the picture had hit. Slowly, his eyelids closed over his irises, holding back those several thousand tears that just wanted to tumble down his cheeks. But he wasn't going to let them escape, he couldn't allow himself to show such a strong sign of weakness, not whilst he was the only one there for his kids. Luke and Felicity needed him more than anything, now, and he wasn't about to let anyone know just how much he was breaking up. How quickly he felt himself splitting at the seams. He'd been fixed so many times, but that one last tug could easily pull him to pieces.

whatiwantwillalwaysstaythesame.

ooc; This is MATURE. Do not read if you are squeamish [o_O] about sex scenes or if you have the attention span of a grape...It's a rather long drabble. Also realise that this is my first attempt at something like this, so I apologize if it's not accurate or it, well, sucks. ._. I have skipped a few parts out, mainly because I don't feel entirely comfortable writing them or because I just don't know how to write them without making it ruin that type of mood being set. o_OExcuse any soppiness. ¬_¬

There she was. Sitting alone in the dark, her skin illuminated by the moonlight brushing in through the window, a gentle breeze stroking against the glass that was the only thing that stood to protect her from the cold of Winter. Her eyes were set upon the closed door that stood mere feet away from her, watching and waiting as if it would miraculously come to life, the painted wood just suddenly moving from its hinges. But, no. She was waiting for someone to arrive from /behind/ that door, to greet her in the room that was not her own. The female may not have belonged in that dorm of Saint Delacroix, but she had frequented there, visiting, on occasions, a boy that had been the object of her affections for so many months now. Damien Alexander, the fifth year that had captured her heart almost from the moment that she met him.

That time felt so long ago, when they had stood in the kitchens, making those sweet little pancakes that was now one of her favourite memories. It had been that morning that she had first met him, that morning that she had first been allowed in, allowed to view the male in a light that most others hadn‘t been privileged to see. Since then, they had spent so much time together, their feelings deepening and growing as time grew on. They had endured sad times and enjoyed happy times, suffered tears and strain but fought through with a love that couldn’t so easily perish. The pair had been through a lot, and had made it past the days of hurt and were now able to just.. cherish their moments together.

As the girl sat upon Damien’s bed, her heart pounded furiously against her chest, panic and worry being an obvious emotion flitting about in her mind. What was she doing? What if it was a mistake? Oh god. Skye was rooted to the spot on that soft mattress of his, her fingertips clasping hold of the duvet beneath her. She really had no idea what had drawn her to do this, to actually be settled there, waiting for Damien to arrive which he shortly would. Oh, what if he didn’t want this yet?

What was really making her panic so? What was it that was causing her nerves to suddenly be so strong? It was the prospect of what could happen that evening.. or what couldn’t, more to the point. The girl’s gaze briefly flitted over to look outside at that moon that seemed to be hanging so low in the sky, the clouds closing in around the orb’s edges but unable to block out that small amount of light. The small amount of light that was stroking against her near-bare back, slightly shadowing the curves of her breasts that were only being held in a black-lace bra, one much like the one that she had worn that day so many weeks ago at the beginning of October. Over her long, slender legs, she wore thin, black stockings that ended with a lace finish about mid-way up her thigh. Just above her underwear, there rested a thick band of material that held against her hips, small attachments leading down to clip onto the rims of those thigh-length tights.

That was why she was nervous. That was why her heart was pounding so strongly in her chest. She was waiting for him.. and offering herself to him for the first time. Skye just didn’t know what to expect, whether he would accept the situation or choose to discard it. He could just walk away from her, thinking her stupid to even think such a thing was going to happen between them. Oh, so many outcomes were rushing through her mind, pumping worries and doubts continually through her bloodstream.

It hadn’t been too long ago that they had actually discussed the matter, spoken about whether they would be able to take their relationship to the next step as it were. Oh, that conversation had been priceless. So many nervous laughs and deep red blushes had been exchanged between the pair, it was almost like were a couple of eleven year olds that were just learning about the whole story of ‘where babies come from’. But, it had been that conversation that had led her to be where she was now. Resting upon his bed in, practically, the same outfit that had led their relationship to develop from friendship. But that conversation hadn’t been the most.. conclusive. It seemed that both had merely dropped hints about what they really wanted, and how much they wanted this to happen.

That was probably what was fuelling a lot more of Skye’s nerves about the evening, more so than the idea of, well, having sex. She didn’t entirely know what he wanted or whether he had meant that this is where he thought their relationship was leading in the near future. He could have meant something completely different and she was oblivious to the fact that he just didn’t want that from her.
Oh god, what was she going to do?

Before her mind could really develop any more on this question, her gaze was drawn back to the door as the handle started to rattle slightly, signalling that someone was trying to get into the dorm. And that someone was Damien. The male slowly entered the blackened room with his eyes downcast to the ground, his initial entrance not leading him to look around at the containments of those four walls. One hand was resting in the pocket of his black work slacks whilst the other remained resting upon the door handle as he slowly moved to close it.

But, before that soft click was heard, Damien’s gaze rose to rest upon the form of his girlfriend, basking in the moonlight as she sat upon the bed. /His/ bed. Her expression, as he could tell, was a nervous one as she slowly stood herself up, the fingers of her hands fiddling with each other in front of her torso. Butterflies were tossing and turning in her stomach, causing an almost sickly feeling to settle itself within her. How on earth was he going to react?

To be honest, Damien truly hadn’t expected to come back up to the school from a work shift to this. And he showed this as his eyes widened a fraction, those pale hues of his darkening slightly before they drifted over her form. His own heart had started pounding upon the sight, even though it had, once more, fallen into that light feeling that Skye’s presence gave him. There had only been one time before that he had seen her like this and that had been one of the most embarrassing but amazing days of his life, and seeing it twice made no difference to the impact that it made upon him.

Slowly, the male shut the door behind him and took a few steps over towards her, much as she did with him until they met in the middle of the room. Though there was barely enough light in the room to see, he was able to see that small fluster that was gracing her cheeks and was sure that his own cheeks were starting to redden, though that didn’t really matter now. There they were, together, standing mere inches away from one another with their eyes locked [though Damien’s couldn’t help but wander that little bit more].

“You look..” He paused for a moment, attempting to think of the perfect way to describe it, but his mind failed him. There was nothing that could explain how beautiful she was to him, not only in appearance but her personality, as well. Her whole self was just too incredible for words. “I can’t describe how amazing you look.” A lop-sided smile slowly formed upon his lips as Skye’s gaze fell to the ground, a gentle laugh escaping her lips whilst that compliment caused her blush to deepen a shade. Those vivid blue eyes soon drifted back up to the male’s, her hand also rising from her side to rest against his torso before fiddling with the tip of his work tie.
“And you’re not looking too bad yourself..” Her voice was gentle, that nervous ring barely present as her fingertips stroked over the silk material, glad to hear a small chuckle come from the fifth year.

Skye was certainly feeling more comfortable, even though it was still a rather daunting moment for both of them. She wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to do anything with her if he still didn’t feel entirely certain about it, she’d understand. He had lived with the fear of contact with other people for so long and he was then, just suddenly, able to be with her in a way that he probably wouldn’t have really considered before. The girl didn’t want him to suddenly feel pressured into delivering something into their relationship just because they had been dating for a few months now. She didn’t have the right to just turn up on his door step and expect him to sleep with her. No, he shouldn’t feel pushed into doing something.

“Damien, I-” Her words were interrupted, though. Her thoughts were stopped, as well, as she felt the boy’s soft lips press to her own, his fingers lightly tracing over her cheek and then through her hair. The pair held that kiss for several moments, Skye’s hands slipping to rest upon his torso whilst his free hand trailed down to her hip. As their lips parted, their foreheads rested against each other, their eyes once more locked.
“I love you so much, Skye Sanders,” Damien whispered gently to her, so quietly that he was unsure if she could hear it over the pounding of his heart. It took mere seconds for the girl’s response to come, her smile-curved lips forming four simple words. “I love you, too.”

It took only brief moments for Skye’s lips to once more be pressed against Damien’s, their kiss a passionate one as the girl’s arms went to wrap around his neck, his own wrapping around her bare waist, holding her strongly against him. He could feel the material of her bra pressing through his thin shirt, feeling her pushing so comfortably against him as their kiss continued, their lips feverishly attacking the other’s. The nerves that they had previously felt seemed to have vanished, now replaced with an excitement for the situation and a deep desire that they both shared.

Slowly, the girl’s arms slid from around his neck, her fingers once more fiddling with that tie of his, loosening it further until she was able to slip it from beneath his collar, allowing it to simply fall to the floor beside them. His own hands continued to rest at her hips, holding her body close to his as their lips remained pressed lightly together, eyes closed. Damien’s tongue slowly slid over her lower lip before being allowed to enter her mouth, the pair’s muscles stroking against one another whilst Skye’s fingertips started to blindly undo the buttons of his shirt.

Neither really knew what to expect, though their nerves were now deeply buried somewhere beneath that burning desire they both held. It was the first time that either of them had done this and, really, they were just allowing whatever happened to, just, happen. They didn’t have any real experience to go by, no previous practices that could guide them. It was just them, on there own, allowing their instinct to lead them further in their actions.

As the white material of his shirt fell to the floor, their legs slowly carried them towards the bed. Skye’s fingers dug partially into the front of his trousers, her thumbs holding against the hem to draw his body closer to her own, already able to feel that slight arousal that the boy held. Damien’s own hands were stroking delicately over her back, brushing over her shoulder blades and beneath the material of her bra where the clasp held it in place. His breathing grew heavier whilst their kiss briefly parted, his lips trailing along her jaw line and down to her neck. Skye’s head tilted more to one side to expose more of her neck to him, able to feel that warm breath stroking over her skin.

A soft murmur past the girl's lips, a gentle whisper to his ear before the back of her leg touched against the mattress of his bed, their movement ceasing as Skye slowly fell back to sit on upon the duvet. Damien remained standing, his glazed eyes gazing down upon the girl before him, his chest rising and falling steadily with the excitement burning inside of him. She leant forwards slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to his lower torso as her fingers started to unbutton his trousers. Her motions were slow, her knuckles lightly pressing inwards before tugging down until the male was merely standing there in his boxers. It was then that he leant down, capturing her lips in his own, his body pressing her further down against the bed. Now both were lying down.

---

It was almost a surreal feeling as their bodies moved gradually together, Damien hovering just above Skye with his lips gently kissing over her neck and collarbone. Her fingers laced through his hair, able to feel the sweat that now covered both of them also residing amongst the strands. Their breathing was quick, almost in unison to the beat of their bodies' actions, with soft murmurs frequenting past their lips.

His kisses trailed back over her jawline until his gaze met hers, his crystal eyes noting that look of discomfort of her features though those vivid blue hues continued to look up at him lovingly.
"You okay?" His voice was more like a pant, his body not ceasing its desired movements as he spoke. The reply he got, at first, was a mere nod, her eyes closing as she intook a deep breath.
"I'm fine..." she breathed, her eyelids flickering back open before closing once more as Damien's lips locked with hers in one of their many passionate kisses.

Finally, their bodies slowly came to a stop, their breathing strong and quick. Skye's bare chest now pressed against Damien's after allowing himself to relax against her, his forearms supporting his weight above her. He lightly nuzzled the side of his nose against hers, a small smile spreading over his lips as one did hers. It was hard to believe what had just happened between them, their minds still not entirely registering their actions though their bodies had grown increasingly tired.

---

Skye lay snuggled up against Damien's side, her cheek resting to his chest with one of her legs intertwined with his. Over her upper-body, she had put on Damien's work shirt, the buttons, all but one, remained undone. Her breathing was now slow, calm once more as her eyes closed, dreams filtering through her slumbering form. Damien's eyes remained open, not yet captured by the realms of sleep as Skye had been. His mind was filled with emotions, most as a result of the girl lying beside him. He'd never loved anyone like this, not to such a strong degree. Really, he'd never experienced feeling like this, not until her.

With her, he was free from that inner influence, but it wasn't just that. She was so special to him for so many other reasons. There was just.. so much about her that he loved. Her kind nature and loving smiles, her unpredictability. Damien certainly hadn't been expecting what had happened that evening to happen. He hadn't even realised that she was going to be in his dorm that evening - just waiting in the moonlight. A smile tugged on the corner of his lips, a sort of lop-sided grin that usually graced his features when he was around her, as he thought of how amazing she had looking sitting there. The male sighed contently before lightly kissing the top of Skye's head, his fingertips lightly running through her hair and then down to her waist, drawing her closer to his side as he allowed his eyes to close, allowing sleep to slowly engulf him.

forever.

ooc; I may delete this or change this at some point. I also haven't proof read it, so it may be rather repeatative and, well, crap.

Many months had now passed, days passing as swiftly as the birds flying up in the bluest of skies. Jay lay back upon a large double bed, his back pressed against the headboard. His attire was far more formal than that which he usually graced others to view, though, by now, his shirt had lost its previous pristine condition, swamped with creases around the hems that had now been pulled out from his dress pants. Around his collar was a loosened old tie, one which had been worn by his father at his wedding to Johnny’s mother. Upon his feet, he wore a pair of shiny black shoes, the laces tightly done up in hope of keeping their owner from tripping over and nearly landing flat on his face [which had, sadly, occurred earlier on in the day, causing a rather deep blush to cross over Johnny’s cheeks].

Soft, brown eyes glanced down to the deep crimson cover of the book resting upon his lap, his fingers brushing against the leather material whilst his thumb acted as a bookmark to the current page of interest. The book was battered and worn, the pages wrinkled and creased, showing that it had been in the young male’s possession for at least a year or two previous [or that some kind of fluid had been spilt on it frequently, which had happened on one or two occasions]. No matter, the book was one that Johnny would never exchange for a newer one, nor would he throw it away. It was something that he kept close to his heart, something that gave so many memories, ones of recent hours and ones of many months before. It was Johnny’s journal of sorts, though it only focused upon one aspect of his life. One aspect that he had, in fact, forgotten little over a year and a half ago.

It hadn’t been through fault of his own, but it was something that Johnny had felt an extreme form of remorse about. Memory loss was something that he had never really thought about until it had chosen him to be the next victim, locking away parts of his mind that he wanted so badly to access - his first year of dating Martha Smith, and his proposal to her, the girl of his dreams. It had been like an entire year had been stolen away from him, though he was able to remember small portions as the months went by.

Slipping his thumb over the page that it held in the small book, the cover folded backwards, revealing the detailed contents inside. The words were written neatly across the faint lines that ran across the pages, Johnny’s fluent writing style inked strongly against the white background. On one corner of the page rested a golden wedding ring, sitting there for only a brief time as the male wrote words of the day down using an pen that he had found in the bedside table. It had been an odd weight upon his finger, though one that he had been happy to accept as part of him earlier that day. Yes, his wedding day. Well, their wedding day. Something that the two of them had shared and, now that it had been written down, one that neither of them would forget. It was something that Johnny would be able to reminisce about, seeing his own words rather than relying upon something as fragile as the human mind.

A faint smile couldn’t help but cross Johnny’s lips as his gaze fell upon the gold metal, rubbing his thumb and forefinger over the cool material, fiddling now with the shiny band between his fingers. After several moments, the male slipped the ring back onto his wedding finger, admiring how something so simple could signify so much, a lot like the book that lay before him. A book that held so many memories and moments, something that Johnny had sworn to fill with moments that he had cherished ever since that moment that he had realised just how heartbroken Martha was on that day that she realised that he had forgotten about her. It had been that day that he, too, had felt the pain of a broken heart, though not from loss of love. It was more that it was something wrong with him that had caused those hot tears to pass over Martha’s cheeks, tears that should have never been shed.

Allowing a soft sigh to pass across his lips, Jay closed the book before him after finishing his latest passage, setting the pen back down upon the table beside him. Eyelids briefly closed before slowly flickering back open again, only for his gaze to fall upon a figure dressed in white at his door way. The male’s smile extended, his legs sliding from upon the bed and taking his small weight, carrying him across the room to the young woman. Wrapping one arm around her waist, Jay rested his forehead against hers, his left hand rising to lightly stroke over her pale cheek. The woman’s hand raised also, resting upon the back of his neck, fingers stroking over the Chinese symbols, that matched her own name, that had been imprinted there several months before.

“I never thought that I’d ever find myself getting married to someone as amazing as you.” His words were soft, almost to the point of a whisper, his fingers running through her golden locks. “I love you so much, Mrs. Martha Farber.”

This House Is Not A Home

ooc; I haven't proof-read this yet so there are probably a million mistakes. >_< Also, this is where I got the inspiration for this drabble: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fdu0-SX1EPc
Hope you like it.

“Hey, Jimmy, I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah? I can kick your ass at basketball again.”
“No chance. See you later, dude.”
A grin curled on Yates’ lips as he threw the basketball over to his friend, who was now heading off down the street and leaving the young teen to stand outside the front gate of his house. The boy sat himself down upon the dampened wall, fingertips brushing over the mossy brick which held numerous words scratched into the surface. Most were from Jimmy and himself sitting outside in the middle of summer, scrapping small pictures or idiotic words that they came up with. Some were just random pieces of graffiti from other kids that had lived in this house previously or just drunken somebodys finding entertainment out of scrapping away at a brick wall.

It was a pleasant day outside, the warm weather of summer seeping joyfully throughout the streets of New York. The atmosphere was cheerful, even as the sun slowly started to creep down beneath the houses and as the moon made it’s presence known. As Luke’s gaze followed his friend’s ever shrinking form, a sigh escaped him. Not one of bliss or happiness, but sadness. His head tilted to one side, glancing backwards at his poor excuse of a home, noting the broken upper windows and the door that barely hung from it’s hinges. Breathing in the fresh air for the last time of the day, he started to stand and slowly headed inside.

The moment that the door shut, a deepened sense of darkness settled in Yates’ mind. The rooms were darkened with hardly any lighting and the dull wallpaper was almost ripped from the walls, casting shadows across the rotting, wooden floor boards. It certainly wasn’t the best place for a fourteen year old to be living, but he got by, usually leaving the confides of this building for many hours of the day and only returning when there was dire need to or when the night crept over New York. That was the only time that he felt the need to return, however, he would always happily sleep round Jimmy’s on the floor rather than sleep in his own bed.

Yates slowly made his way through the hallway, the tips of his dirty trainers lightly kicking against the shredded pieces of newspaper and glass fragments. The house seemed empty at the time, signalling that the boy’s mother was out again. She was probably out getting plastered again like usual. It didn’t really make much difference to Yates as she was rarely around as of late. Turning into the living room, the teen glanced around at his dingy surroundings, slipping one of his hands into his pockets and pulling out a dark grey cigarette pouch. It certainly wouldn’t take long for him to feel just that little bit better about his surroundings.

-----------------------------------------------------

The rain was beating soundly against the cool glass of the windows, casting shadows across the floor and the person seated silently on the one of those small, plastic chairs in the middle of the room. Smoke dripped from the young male’s lips as he relaxed further into the chair, his muscles loosening as the substances carried in the smoke took effect. Images flicked across the television screen, almost as if in slow motion in Yates’ mind. His eyes slowly closed as he fell into his relaxed state, a small smile residing on his features.

This relaxed atmosphere was short lived though, as the shattering of glass quickly sounded as several large stones penetrated the houses exterior, breaking the living room windows. A loud, drunken laugh echoed through the street, the heavy clicking of heels tapping against the solid ground outside as this drunken woman made her way into the house. After slamming the door, she entered the living room, her hand clinging onto the door frame for support. The laughter ceased as her gaze settled upon her son, seating still in the middle of the room, his own gaze upon her.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she inquired, practically glaring at the boy with his cigarette in hand.
“I was enjoying the fact that you weren’t home, but I guess now I’m just sitting here watching some sort of freak show trample through the house.” These certainly weren’t words that were usually heard in a conversation between a mother and son but, recently, insults and harsh words had been thrown about between them as if not a nice word could be exchanged between them.

Amelia, the mother, practically glared at Yates as she stumbled across the room to where he was sat, forcefully pushing her hand against the side of his cheek and causing the boy to practically fall from his chair as his body was still in its relaxed state. She turned the television off and turned back to her son, who now lay on the floor, the side of his face pressing against the shattered glass of the window. Slowly, he got back to his feet, brushing away the shards that had stuck of his skin, some even piercing it to allow a deep red liquid to flow relentlessly down his cheek and some of his neck.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that, you little shit!” she shouted, shoving him once more until he stumbled backwards a couple of steps, showing no sign that he was going to try and stop her.
“Just go drown yourself in another bottle of vodka, Mom. Do us both a favour.” At this point, instead of an insult being thrown at Luke, it was a glass that had been sitting upon the top of the television set, only missing the boy by mere inches before it smashed against the wall behind him. The teen hadn’t exactly expected an object to be thrown at him so strongly, his body slow to react to the sudden shattering of glass behind him. He looked at his mother wide-eyed, noting her glare and drunken posture as she grabbed another random item and threw it at him, the object hitting the floor with a dull thud.

“What the hell are you doing?!” This was a first for Yates having things thrown at him by his own mother, even if they had had their fair share of heated arguments, never had she tried to cause physical harm to him other than the occasional shove.
“Just get out!” Another object flew by Luke’s ear as Amelia shouted at him to leave, tears flowing uncontrollably over her cheeks. Without real hesitation, Yates glanced at his mother before quickly leaving the room, grabbing his jacket from the floor.

There wasn’t really an explanation for why Amelia had suddenly turned violent in her drunken state, but Yates chose against questioning it before he left the house. The cold night air hit him sharply as he slid his arms into the warmer arms of his jacket, eyes downcast to the ground as his feet started to take him out through the front gate and into the street. He didn’t know where to go. Jimmy and his family were going off for the evening to Jimmy’s grandparents and he doubted that they wanted him to be dragging along with them. So, he just started to walk. His hands tucked into his jean pockets, body slouched as he continued to stroll down to the end of the street. Walking all on his own.

I'm just a kid

He hated waiting. How anyone could have the patience to wait for something was beyond him. I mean, how was someone expected to wait for nine months to have a baby and then, when you think the baby is coming, you have to wait for hours until the actual birth takes place. It was aggravating but exciting at the same time. It was about eleven ‘o’ clock in the morning and Gareth was sitting in a chair beside Stacy’s hospital bed, his feet propped up on the mattress and his head leant back over the top of the chair. Light snores were emitting from his partially open mouth as he slept soundly with his arms crossed over his chest. The magazine that he had previously been reading was resting on his lap on some random page about one of the new Ferraris or something like that. He had been at the hospital with Stacy since about midnight and it had been literally when he had just got nice and comfortable in his bed. It teaches you never to have all nighters any time near your baby’s due date.

It had been almost eleven hours since Stacy’s contractions had started to get closer together. Over the past couple of days she had started to get a few twinges in her abdomen, which the doctors said was her cervix thinning in preparation for the birth of the baby or something like that. Gary had found it rather hard to concentrate on what the doctor was saying due to the sudden shock that he was going to be a father in less than three or four days. It was a terrifying thought for the fifteen-year-old, but he wouldn’t have run away and left Stacy on her own like a lot of teenage fathers out there did. No, he was sticking by her no matter what. Once Stacy’s contractions had become stronger and closer, Gareth was sitting in the car with her and holding her hand. He had been reassuring her that it was all going to be alright and that by the end of it, they’d have a little baby all of their own. Oh yes, he was being very mature about this.

Suddenly, something made a grab for Gary’s foot, causing the young male to jump and actually topple completely off of his chair.
“Crap…” came a muffled voice from the floor, one of his feet still resting on the mattress and in his girlfriend’s rather tight grasp. Her breathing had become more laboured as she received a rather painful contraction, causing her to grab onto whatever was closest to her.
“Gary..?” Stacy breathed through clenched teeth. Her pale blue eyes were focused on the ceiling as the pain in her abdomen remained, grip still tight on the male’s shoe. From the floor, Gary quickly tried to stand up, even with out the ability to use one of his legs and, once he was standing, he removed Stacy’s grasp from his foot and took her hand in his. He couldn’t imagine how painful it must have been for her. All he could think of was that pain of her hand clasping tightly to his, which was painful enough.

At the sound of the commotion coming from the room, a nurse bustled in with the doctor shortly following. The doctor and nurse conversed quietly and checked Stacy over and measured how much she had dilated.
“Right, it’s time to move you to the delivery room,” he stated simply, looking back to Stacy, who was still breathing rapidly, and a rather wide-eyed Gary.
“Holy shh…” the male teenager started as, once again, Stacy’s grip tightened on his hand.
“Right, come on. Here we go,” the Doctor said calmly and started to make the preparations to move the two to the delivery room.

------

Considering how long the two had been at the hospital for before hand, the actual birth seemed to be over quite quickly. Stacy was exhausted, her hand still holding Gareth’s, though now her clasp had sub-sided and was weaker as she tried to catch a glimpse of her little baby who they had just been told was a boy.
“Gary, where is he? I want to see him,” Stacy practically pleaded to the boy standing beside her, her tone almost worried as if she was scared that they were going to take him away and she’d never be able to see him.
“They’re just cleaning him up…Stace, he’s so small.” Gary was just able to see his little boy as they wiped him over and wrapped him in a towel. The boy just couldn’t take his eyes off of him. His heart was pounding and even though the baby was crying, he had to admit that it was the best moment of his life. That little baby was his and Stacy’s and no one was able to change that.

Slowly, one of the nurses’ brought the little boy wrapped up in a towel, over to his parents. Once she reached the two, the nurse passed the baby over to Stacy first and then backed away so that the three could spend that special moment together.
“Oh my god…” Stacy said softly, her voice slightly higher than normal as she was on the verge of tears. She held the baby with both arms, terrified that she was going to drop him. “He’s gorgeous,” she added, glancing to look at Gareth before looking back to the baby boy.
“Yeah…I-I just can’t believe it…” Gareth was almost in a daze at the site of this little thing wrapped up in a towel that was practically triple it’s size. The teenager leant over slightly to kiss Stacy softly on her forehead before looking back to their little son.

“What are you going to call him?” the Doctor asked, a soft smile upon his lips as he watched the happy little family. The two teens looked at each other, smiling before looking back to the child in Stacy’s arms.

“Dominic. His name’s Dominic.”

Never saw it coming

It was about ten thirty in the evening and the party was in full swing. Alcohol and food was freely flowing from person to person as everyone just let loose. It was a themed party that one of Gareth’s friends was hosting at his house and, of course, Gareth was making sure that everyone’s spirits were running high. He had noticed that Stacy hadn’t arrived yet, but put it to her wanting to look perfect for this party even though, to Gary, she looked perfect no matter what. Since the incident about a month ago, Gareth and Stacy had become more than friends and were basically dating. Though not much had changed between them. They had always hung out with each other as much as they could and were usually hugging and such, occasionally exchanging small kisses on the cheek. But now, to Gareth’s glee, he got to have a proper, full-on relationship with her. Of course, it wasn’t all about the being physically close, but emotionally as well. Yes, kind of sappy which is why he never really admitted that he liked the whole emotional admittance part of the relationship, though behind closed doors he was a right sucker for it.

The male was currently, as a joke, wearing a hula skirt over the top of his three-quarter length combats. The typical joker, trying to get everyone to laugh at the fact he was wearing a skirt. Of course, he would never wear a skirt with out his trousers underneath. That would just be pure embarrassment, though he was sure it would be a pleasurable sight to see and would certainly be humorous. But no, there was no chance of that ever happening. At least, not this evening.

Apart from the hula skirt, Gareth was dressed pretty normally. Over his top half was a pale blue button-down shirt with a few of the top buttons undone, whilst on his feet were his scruffy rebooks that he had owned for over half a year. He refused to believe that these trainers needed to be replaced as they were slowly falling apart around his feet. If he stepped in a puddle, his feet would end up absolutely drenched. But, it was the summer so, currently, there was nothing to worry about.

The male’s eyes scanned over the crowd of people, also dressed in Hawaiian themed clothing, but he saw no sign of Stacy anywhere. The past few days she had seemed to be a little off with him. Each time he tried to give her a hug, she would just draw back as if he was poisonous and would infect her with some sort of deadly disease. In honesty, the fifteen-year-old was feeling rather rejected by her and wasn’t really sure what he had done wrong to make her act like this. Of course, him questioning about whether or not it was her ‘lady’s time’ probably hadn’t helped at the time as she had thrown him one of the iciest glares that he had ever received. It had actually made him edge away from her slightly in case she decided to pounce on him and maul him to death. And it was strange because she had never been like it around him before. A sigh left the lad’s lips as he went to sit down on one of the chairs by the pool, allowing himself to freely glance at all the different people that had arrived at this party. He didn’t know half of them but they all looked like they were having a good time. But Gary’s mood had now taken a turn for the worst as his mind settled on the way Stacy had been acting and whether or not she was even going to show up to this party.

However, soon enough, Stacy arrived and boy did she look beautiful. Gary was rather glad at the fact that he had been sitting down at the point that his girlfriend had arrived otherwise he was sure he would have fainted from the sheer beauty of the girl. The male made his way over to her, almost instantly wrapping his arms around her and swinging her round a couple of times.
“Gary, come on, put me down,” the girl laughed, rolling her eyes as her arms slipped around Gareth’s neck once her feet were back upon the ground.
“Talk about fashionably late,” Gareth said softly into her ear before lightly kissing her soft cheek and then those lovely lips.
“Well, you know me. I just have to keep you waiting,” Stacy teased, kissing Gary back whilst her fingertips brushed through his thick, brown locks. Butterflies seemed to flutter in abundance inside the girl’s stomach, a certain nervousness setting in. Once she drew back from the kiss, her fingers continued to thread through the male’s hair, stroking the soft strands whilst she peered into his dark brown eyes. It was easy to tell that something was bothering the girl, just by how her eyebrows were slightly furrowed as she looked at him.
“Stace, what’s the matter?” Gareth asked, a concerned expression now showing on his features. “You’ve been acting strange recently. Come on, what’s up?” If something was wrong with Stacy, he wanted to know about it so that he could do all he could to make her feel better. Though, he wasn’t entirely prepared for what she said next.

“Gareth, you remember that night at the party just outside of town…when the taxi didn’t arrive for about an hour and we stayed in the truck?” the girl questioned whilst her fingers continued to stroke through his hair. The soft feel of those locks just seemed to reassure her that whatever she said, everything would be fine. He wouldn’t leave her. He wasn’t the type of guy to do that, but there was still that nagging worry at the back of her mind.
“Yeah, of course I do…” Gary responded, looking at her curiously. It was starting to worry him even more now, his mind whirring as he thought of all the possibilities, all of the things that could be causing his girlfriend such obvious distress. Stacy held onto the long pause after Gary had spoken, taking deep breathes before she finally decided to speak again.

“Gary, I’m pregnant.”

The male’s eyes widened instantly as he heard this, eyelids repeatedly blinking blankly at the girl.
“W-w-w-what?” He couldn’t help but stutter throughout that one word. Had he heard her right or was it his imagination? His arms fell limply to his sides, wide eyes still focused on Stacy as if waiting for her to say that it was all a joke. Those butterflies seemed to be doing a good job at making Stacy’s stomach do back flips. Her heart practically sank as she noticed how shocked and panic-stricken the boy now looked. She let her hands drift from his hair and back to her sides.
“I’m having your baby, Gareth…” she repeated, feeling the need to tell him once more so that he understood that she wasn’t lying and that it wasn’t just one big joke.

Sadly, the fact that he had now lost the support of Stacy’s arms meant that he was no longer being held up. And as Stacy repeated her statement, Gareth slowly fell backwards and fainted.

On the floor, unconscious and in a hula skirt. Oh, what a great role-model he’d be.

Today is still in front of us

It was rare for the young male to shed tears or to allow his emotions to control his body and his actions. But recently, it had slowly became harder to control these things that kept invading the lad’s mind. Jerry preferred to think of himself as the strong one and the most dependable of his family, even though he was the one that wasn’t around as often as he probably could have been but this was due to school and the part-time job that he was trying to maintain. The time just all added up which left him less and less chances to visit his family and to check on how his father was getting along.

But he was always a phone call away, however, today he would have preferred not to get the phone call that he did.

It wasn’t that he would have preferred not to be told of what was going on, he would rather know about it rather than be kept in the dark and left completely unaware of the things that the rest of his family were going through. However, he would have been happy if he had never got the phone call and that nothing had happened to cause any need to actually call him. Yes, it certainly wasn’t the sort of news that a teenage boy needed to hear in the middle of the week when school was already leaving him frustrated in the evenings with the tonnes of homework that was slowly piling up on his desk.

Jerry’s school shoes lightly clicked against the floor tiles of the hospital corridor, the sounds echoing throughout the seemingly-never-ending stretch between the reception and his destination. He was relatively well known to a few of the nurses and doctors around this particular ward as he was frequently visiting whenever he got the time. His father was usually asleep so he would chat to anyone he could get his hands on about his condition and check that there wasn’t anything that they were missing, even though he knew nothing of how to cure illnesses, especially the one that his father had. The male always felt helpless. For the past two years, he had been the rock that held his family together but he just wasn’t able to stop what was causing so much pain. It was out of his hands and he would never be able to change that.

After a few more minutes of walking, as well as exchanging a few nods of greeting to a couple of the nurses that he knew, he came upon where his father lay asleep, a peaceful look resting upon his pale features. The older male’s wife and youngest son sat at his bedside, dark red marks staining their cheeks as their gaze remained fixed on the man lying in the bed. The woman’s fingers curled around the younger boy’s hand, holding onto it for dear life as if it was the only thing that was keeping her from collapsing from sheer exhaustion. However, a smile managed to pull at her lips as she noticed Jerry standing in the doorway. The woman almost instantly stood and rushed over to her eldest, her arms quickly wrapping around the boy who practically towered over her.

“Hey, Mum,” Jerry said softly, his own arms wrapping around what was left of the woman as the previous healthy weight that she had obtained over her life had simply fallen from her over the past two years. It was a sad sight to see, such a lovely and usually happy family in such a distraught state. But it couldn’t be helped. Jamie remained seated in his chair, watching his mother and older brother share a long embrace. He looked just like Jerry, apart from the fact that he wasn’t as clean-shaven. Instead, he had a short stubble starting to form due to the lack of motivation to shave. His cheeks were a bright shade of red, caused more than likely from the continuous need to wipe his jacket sleeve over his eyes to hide the tears that were so obviously being held back. Jerry’s gaze shortly turned to his brother once his mum had drawn back.
“You alright, squirt?” he asked, managing to force a small smile in an attempt to lighten the difficult atmosphere that floated around the room. When all he received was a short nod, he walked over to him and gave him a hug, which was a rarity for Jerry to receive back but this time his brother held no reluctance in throwing his arms around him. Jamie had always been the one that found it harder to deal with the extremes of his emotions and it usually led him to do things rather out of character.

“How long have you both been here?” Jerry asked softly, making sure not to speak too loudly in case he woke his father from his drug induced sleep.
“About seven hours,” the younger male said, his tone sleepy. It was only ten in the morning so the two had been there since three ‘o’ clock.
“Why don’t you both go and get something to eat? I’ll stay with Dad in case he wakes up,” the older teenager suggested before sitting himself down beside his brother. He was acting so strong as if it wasn’t affecting him. He was the one that the others leaned on and if he crumbled…well, everything would just get worse. Jamie looked almost relieved at the suggestion of food as he quickly stood up, smiling at his brother before turning his gaze to his rather reluctant looking mother.
“Oh, I don’t know Jerry. What if he wakes up and we aren’t here?” she questioned, her face contorting to show a sense of reluctance and worry.
“Mum, I’ll be here and just think of what Dad would say. He wouldn’t be happy if he found out that you were starving yourself on his account. Go on,” Jerry reassured, shuffling his chair closer towards the hospital bed. No sooner had he said that, Jamie was practically forcing his mother out of the door, his stomach almost growling at the woman who was stopping it from getting it’s fill.

Once the other two were out of the door and on their way to the canteen, Jerry turned his gaze to his father, resting his arms lightly on the edge of the bed. No longer did he have to keep that strong exterior for the rest of the family as he sat there alone with the almost life-less body beside him.
“Hey Dad,” he said in a soft voice, fully aware of the fact that he probably wasn’t registering anything he was saying, or about to say. “You’ll be pleased to know that I managed to finish that essay that you kept asking me about. You know, the one about how alcohol and drugs can completely ruin a teenager’s chance at a good life. I remember when I was eight; you used to force me to read all those books about it. You wanted to make sure that I never got onto that rocky road.” Tears were slowly starting to become apparent in the boy’s eyes, his head hanging low as he couldn’t bare to look at his father in such a state but he managed to quickly regain his composure and looked back to him.

“You’d better not go anywhere. I dunno how I’d be able to look after Mum and Jamie with out you. Mum’d forget half of the stuff she needs to do and would end up getting in a right state. And Jamie, well, you know how much trouble he’d be, especially at his age.” Jerry laughed lightly as he said this, smiling softly whilst he spoke but his smile was short-lived.
“Dad, I can’t do this on my own…I just can’t. We need you so badly. Yo-You can’t just leave us like this. You just can’t.” The male stuttered mid-sentence as he almost choked on his words, tears welling up and trying to force themselves over his slowly reddening skin. He rested his cheek against the edge of the bed, his hand moving to curl around his father’s as a way of trying to reassure himself that he wasn’t going anywhere. Jerry’s eyes slowly closed, teardrops dripping over his cheeks and settling on the bed sheet that rested beneath his head. His grasp tightened on the hand beside his face, a small smile twitching on his face as he felt the older man’s grasp strengthen, his thumb lightly brushing against the teenager’s skin.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he croaked, eyes remaining closed whilst his son’s body shook beside him with the tears forcefully tumbling over his smooth skin, unable to get them to stop.