Arguments with his parents always ended the same way. His mother or father would make a threat, and something told Marty that they would be quite happy to go through with it. The most common one was the threat of being thrown out on the streets, where all of them knew he wouldn't last very long at all. He was only fifteen, and didn't truly have much of a grasp of the world outside his home. He certainly wasn't prepared to survive all by himself.
Especially not supporting Leah.
Leah was the crux of many of the arguments these days. They weren't necessarily about her, per se, and Marty was of course grateful that his parents were at all willing to take care of his mistake (though he wasn't sure how he felt about them repeatedly referring to her as 'his mistake'), but he didn't like the snide insults they would give to him, his ex or his daughter. He didn't like having to lie and tell everyone that she was his sister, especially since everyone where they lived already knew he was a teen parent. He didn't want to move house when he'd finally made friends and started to settle, just because his parents wanted to pretend they weren't grandparents. He understood that no amount of apologies or lies could make up for the shame he'd placed upon them, the wrongs he'd done, but he still didn't think running and hiding was the right thing, or the only choice. It wasn't like everyone in the village was treating them badly following this. If anything, the neighbour lady had been very sweet to him since his ex had passed away.
It didn't matter what he thought, or what they thought though. All that was important to Keo and Sophie was that they looked good. They had to forsake the son who brought them shame and who could never be the son they hoped for, and they had to focus on raising this new daughter that wasn't even theirs. Marty was barely allowed to touch the baby, as if his parents were worried he would in some way corrupt her.
She was his daughter, for Christ's sake! It wasn't like he could corrupt her more by touching her than he could by living under the same roof! But the fact was that he wasn't allowed to say she was his daughter. He was a child himself, it wasn't okay, and he had to put up with that. It wasn't like he wanted to raise a baby at this stage in his life anyway, so he was alright with giving up that responsibility, but the lies and the separation and the insults and the idea of having to pack up and leave everything all over again because of one act of rebellion which led to one almighty fuck up...
Every argument always ended the same. With Marty's parents winning, and Marty apologising for ever trying to argue, promising never to do it again, agreeing with what his parents were saying because in the end they were right. Amanda must have been a whore to have wanted to have sex with him in a public bathroom like that. They had both been extremely stupid, and Marty had no sense, no self-preservation and no faith. He'd done something awful, and in the end, it wasn't the Patersons' fault that Amanda had died, it was his. He was the one who had gotten her pregnant, and it was ultimately from that situation and from their relationship that her depression had sprung. He wasn't the type of person who should be trusted with the wellbeing of a child. It would be for the best to have him and Leah separated as soon as possible, or else he would damage her as well. As it was, he could just be her terrible big brother who continually made mum and dad unhappy. It didn't matter that moving house again would be a huge upheaval in their lives, it didn't matter that Marty would lose all his friends again, as they probably lost all respect for him with the whole baby fiasco anyway. The important thing was that the family carried on like a proper, normal, sensible family.
Marty had apologised that night as well, feeling like he might cry, tears stinging his eyes. As he turned to walk away, he had heard his parents speak as though he was already out of earshot.
"Honestly, that boy is insane. We're doing what's best for everyone, but does he appreciate it?"
"Of course he doesn't, dear. He's going through a phase. He'd just better pray he gets forgiven."
"He doesn't deserve forgiveness after all this. He deserves to be in the same place every other immoral whore belongs."
"Don't be so harsh, Keo. You sounds like one of those religious nutters who tells everyone they're going to hell." His mother laughed, and his father laughed along.
"That's not what I mean, and you know it. I just mean that kids like him never know what's best, so they do a not of stupid things, but most of them recognise that. If they can't recognise the difference between right and wrong, then there's something wrong with them, and you can't have people with no morals with other people."
"And he clearly doesn't care how this affects us. Poor thing. We work so hard for him and he repays us like this. Honestly, it's good we can start over with Leah. Hopefully this little accident will turn out better!" She was clearly directing that at him. It was obvious from the venom in her voice, and when he glanced over his shoulder at his mother, she was looking right at him. For some reason, it made him angry. They'd said things like this a lot before, but he'd never gotten angry enough to scream at them after an argument had already settled.
"I wish you would both just drop dead!"
He never heard their response. He ran off at that point, up the stairs and to his room, slamming the door behind him and not at all caring that it might wake the baby. He remembered throwing himself dramatically onto his bed like a Disney Princess and screaming into his pillow, and it wasn't the first time he'd done that since his life first started going to shit, though he wasn't sure he could place when exactly that was, and after letting out his anger and punching a few things to really work the rage out, he'd calmly gotten ready for bed.
The next morning, his life decided it was time to delve even further into the deep pits of utter shit. He'd woken up feeling a little under the weather. He'd had a headache and felt nauseous, and he figured he'd probably caught something, but that he would have to go to school anyway. Well, he didn't want to stay home all day, whether it be with one of his parents or on his own, so he got ready for school and went downstairs, ignoring the fact that the baby was crying. He wasn't supposed to deal with that. It was mum's job now.
His parents were in the kitchen, in the same seats that they'd been in last night, and they were slumped over in their seats. Like they'd fallen asleep there. Frowning, Marty poured himself a glass of orange juice before sitting opposite his father. Keo had his arms crossed on the table, and his head resting upon them. His mother was slumped in much the same way. It seemed really weird, really unnatural. He'd never seen them asleep at the table like this before, and breakfast was usually ready by the time he got up. By the looks of it, mum hadn't even started on breakfast. In fact, things from last night still weren't cleared out.
Something so unusual and abnormal actually made Marty feel a little anxious. He got to his feet, walked round to his father and hesitated with the idea of trying to shake him awake. If his father did wake up and got angry at him for waking him, there would be hell to pay. So no, he couldn't just try and wake him, but things didn't look right.
"Dad...?" He asked in a soft voice. "Dad...are you okay?" Maybe...maybe they were feeling unwell as well. Maybe there was a bug going around and all three of them had caught it. Finally, he gathered the courage to poke his father hard in the shoulder.
No response.
"Dad? Dad, can you hear me?" He shook his shoulder slightly. No response. "Okay...mum?" He walked round and repeated the same thing. Poke, then shake. No response. "Uh...hello? Are...are either of you...can you hear me? Ah...I feel sick..." He paused, pinching the bridge of his nose. Why did he feel so sick? He'd felt fine last night..."Guys, please wake up, I don't feel well...y...you're scaring me. If this is because of what I said last night, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean it! Please don't be dead! I can't...I can't just...I'm sorry, I don't really want you to die." Playing dead because he'd told them to drop dead seemed just like them. A typical scare tactic. "Uh...look, if you don't wake up and stop messing with me, I...I'm going to take Leah and I'm going next door to Mrs Harper, because I don't feel well and I'm not putting up with your games. I'm not. Okay?"
Still no response. Carefully, he reached a hand to his mother's wrist, moving her bracelet and watch aside to try and feel for a pulse. He'd been taught how to do that in a science lesson not too long ago, when they had been learning about the circulatory system. A lot of the kids in class hadn't actually been able to find their pulse, so Marty had been very proud of himself when he'd been able to find his in his wrist. He couldn't feel his mother's pulse though. He moved his thumb and tried again, but he must not have been able to find the right place. He gave up, stepped away and ran upstairs again, going to his parents' room to get Leah, just as promised. She was still crying, and he didn't notice anything off at first. He scooped her up and for a moment, he just held her close. The bedroom window was wide open, suggesting his parents really hadn't been to bed that night. He'd kept his bedroom window open and his fan on as well, as it had been a hot night.
"It's okay, Leah." He told her gently, rocking her slightly. "I've got you. It's okay. It's just us right now, we don't have to worry." He remembered kissing her on the top of the head before taking her outside. He remembered leaving the door to his house wide open when he left, and making his way over the low hedge to Mrs Harper's front door, and knocking calmly at first. Mrs Harper's doorbell had been broken for months, so she had a notice on the door saying 'knock loudly'. So that was what he did.
"Mrs Harper!" He knocked harder when he didn't get any response from her either, like some part of him was panicking that adults as a whole would just stop. "Mrs Harper, please open the door!" He remembered getting more and more frantic as she took time, forgetting she was old and normally not awake so early. He remembered the nausea mixing with the headache and this pain in his stomach that had started while he was in the kitchen, and he remembered throwing up his juice over Mrs Harper's front door right before it opened.
She hadn't been angry at him, of course. She'd been all smiles and comfort, ushering the boy in and sitting him on her sofa and offering him that tub every family has for the children to throw up in. He'd still apologised, of course. He'd apologised the whole way in until Mrs Harper asked him if he was okay. Then he pulled himself together, became all business, and explained he felt unwell and his parents wouldn't wake up. Her reaction? Instant concern. She insisted he stay right there while she went and checked on his parents, and the next thing he knew, she was calling for an ambulance.
Was it really that bad? Were they really that sick? By the time the paramedic came to talk to him and check him over, he had calmed down, but ten years later he wouldn't remember what exactly had been said or done. He remembered they had been very worried about him and Leah, and that he later found out it was because he'd been throwing up and his parents had died. He remembered not exactly feeling grief at those words, just...numb. And guilty.
He wasn't an idiot, he knew he had no hand in his parents' deaths, but it still seemed naturally awful that his last words to them had been to wish them dead. Sure, they weren't good parents, and they made threats against him a lot, but he was not able to survive on his own with a baby on his hip. The idea of being alone, without his parents, was terrifying.
It was no comfort to hear he would be placed into foster care. If his own parents didn't want him, why would some complete stranger want to take care of him and his kid?
No, not his kid. His sister. That was the rule. Leah was his sister. That was what he had to say. That was what his parents always said. He was too young to be a parent, especially a single dad. If he'd never had such a problem with the lies in the first place, when they were for his own good after all, then maybe they would have moved away by now and his parents wouldn't have died. Since he was being moved away anyway, why bother fighting it? He would have to build from scratch now anyway, so why bother ruining his reputation with new people before he'd even been given a chance?
Why take the risk of being cast aside? If his own parents would have been willing to leave him alone to die if it meant hiding their shame and starting anew, why should he ever trust another adult with no obligation towards him to accept such a situation, a situation he didn't want to be in himself? He wasn't going to be accepted. He wasn't going to be treated with respect. The best he could do would be to give the girl the best start. It would be much better to be an orphan cared for by a big brother than the daughter of the human manifestation of a mess.
He'd been told to lie about his relationship to her for her own good. He couldn't do something that would make her life harder, or ruin her. He had to protect her, be the best he could be for her, and if that meant being the big brother who stepped up to look after his baby sister when their parents died, then that was what he would be.
