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Scotty Atchinson ([info]sayitscotty) wrote in [info]dalton_rpg,
@ 2012-04-13 17:35:00

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Entry tags:! thread, @ character: harrison cook, @ character: scott atchinson

Who: Scotty and Harris
Where: Scotty + Aaron's room
When: Monday night, April 16
What: Harris comes to check on Scotty after
Rating: ~*~triggers~*~

More than his foster father when he was drunk, Scotty decided that the scariest thing in the world was being taken in for questioning by the police. As much as he may say and think that he didn't deserve anything that was given to him, the thought that it could all be ripped away -- Dalton, his friends, his family -- was absolutely terrifying. There would be nothing he could do about it either. He was still a minor -- he had a year to go, but he was a minor nonetheless. The police had been cruel too, saying that he was a suspect in an arson case and then pummeling him with questions. He answered as best he could, but-

Arson. Attempted murder too, if the investigation ruled that it had actually been arson. He would be facing jail time and would risk losing everything, all because of his foster parents. Silly him for thinking that he could ever escape them. No, they would always linger at the edge of his life, ready for his walls to be lowered enough to attack.

In this case, they had caught him completely by surprise. He hadn't known that their house had burned down. Yeah, he knew that people weren't exactly fans of his foster parents, but Scotty had never thought any of them would actually do something. They had to know that there would be consequences to acting out against them. There always were. And now Scotty-

He couldn't think about it. He just couldn't. Yet the thought kept resurfacing: you could lose everything. And it was such a frightening concept to think about. Jail would be so much worse than anything Scotty had faced before. His foster parents had told him that. If he left them, he would be sent somewhere so much worse. It turned out they were right after all, and the thought made him sick.

Panicking, that's all Scotty did on Monday. He didn't go to any of his classes or leave his room; all he did was fall into a restless sleep and stay buried beneath the blankets, as though this were all some elaborate nightmare and he was trying to wake himself up. Pinching didn't work though, and neither did falling asleep and waking again. It didn't take him long to creep out of bed and lock the door so he would have a warning for when Aaron came back in, and it took him even less time to grab the razor he had been using and to sit down at the floor with a towel spread out beneath him.

Scotty honestly couldn't say how many times he sat down on the floor on Monday. He just kept going down when he became too overwhelmed and felt like he was going to throw up, and after his third trip to the bathroom to clean himself up, he made the mistake of not locking the door again.

And that was how he would be found: sitting on the floor, drawing lines onto his thighs and hips, head bowed and hair obscuring his face.

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[info]onewayride
2012-04-14 12:24 am UTC (link)
That, of course, was not how Harris had anticipated finding him, and the younger boy's name died on his lips as he pushed the door open. When he'd found out earlier that day that Scotty had been questioned, he'd suspected that the boy would be stressed, but Harris thought they'd gotten past this - and it wasn't like the police really thought Scotty was involved (how could they?), so he shouldn't have been in such a bad place anyway. But the reasoning didn't matter - shouldn't matter - and after a few beats of silence, the older blond jumped into action.

"What the fuck?" he spat, rushing to kneel in front of Scotty. It wasn't difficult to wrestle the razor from the junior's grip, and Harris set it aside as he folded the towel up over Scotty's legs as best he could. "Scotty, what the fuck? I thought... Why would you... You fucking..." God, what was wrong with everyone. Addison, and now Scotty? Who else would sink to this level? An uncomfortable twist of his stomach brought Ethan's face to his mind, but Harris shook it off. Ethan would never. He just wouldn't.

Sitting back on his heels for a moment, he pulled his t-shirt off over his head and then bunched it up and pressed it against one of the deeper wounds on Scotty's leg. Pressing down, his other hand moved to Scotty's chin and Harris nudged him gently, forcing him to look up. "Scotty..."

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[info]sayitscotty
2012-04-14 12:46 am UTC (link)
As soon as the door clicked open, Scotty knew he had been caught. His body tensed up, froze, and he just stared down at the razor still posed above his skin. He gripped it harder and swallowed, his entire body thrumming in preparation for Aaron to speak up and touch him. Aaron wouldn't be happy, Scotty knew, but he would understand. And he would comfort Scotty too and reassure him, tell him everything would be okay, and to trust him, because Aaron had never lied to Scotty before and he wasn't about to now.

Yet it was Harris' voice that pierced the silence, and it was Harris that was crouching down in front of him and grabbing the razor, and it was Harris that was trying to put pressure on the wounds. His eyes welled up with tears but didn't shed, not yet. No, he would just let himself get more worked up. Harris was wild and unpredictable, and he was more scary than comforting, and Scotty didn't know how this situation would play out.

As if he needed more curveballs thrown into his life.

He still didn't move, even as Harris pulled off his shirt and pressed it against his leg. The tears still hung heavy on his eyelashes, at the tip of his eyelids, and his breathing remained even but empty somehow; it didn't feel like he was getting any air in at all, but he couldn't breathe any deeper.

And then Harris was forcing him to look up, and the touch was gentle, and his voice was quiet and gentle and so sad, and Scotty appeared to crumble.

"I'm sorry," Scotty whispered, the tears finally falling now. He jerked out of Harris' grip and scrubbed at his face. He wasn't supposed to cry. "I'm so sorry."

He wasn't supposed to apologize either, but that wasn't working.

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[info]onewayride
2012-04-14 01:05 am UTC (link)
Harris frowned when the younger boy jerked out of his grip, but he didn't try to pull him back in. Not immediately anyway. He couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at Scotty's apology, but it was so bloody difficult to be mad when the kid was crying. "Yeah. Sure you are," he muttered as he glanced down at the boy's legs again. Not sorry enough, clearly - some of the cuts that he could see were new, but not fresh enough to only be a few minutes old - had Scotty spent his day like this? Come to think of it, Harris couldn't remember seeing the younger blond at lunch.

Then again, he couldn't remember seeing Scotty at lunch in weeks. "Jesus Christ, Scotty," he continued, looking up again. He let his eyes slowly roam over the younger blonde's face, and Harris felt his heart tighten as he finally reached out, wrapped an arm around Scotty, and pulled him in close. "Scotty..." He wasn't whispering, but he kept his voice low nonetheless, and he pressed a kiss to the junior's forehead. "Fuck, Scotty. What are you doing? Why the Hell would you... You said you didn't anymore..." It was sort of funny, wasn't it? Scotty was the innocent one, the sweet, precious one that everyone wanted to protect and no one would ever suspect - but he was a liar, and a pretty decent one at that.

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[info]sayitscotty
2012-04-14 01:17 am UTC (link)
Scotty had nothing to say. He kept his gaze diverted as Harris looked him over and allowed himself to be pulled into the hug. He didn't move, save to flinch at the kiss (so gentle, like how Harris used to be, and it was so unlike the Harris that existed now) and to slump into Harris' embrace.

"I didn't when you found out," he said softly. His hands remained in his lap and then uncurled from the fists they had formed into to tangle with the material of the towel and Harris' shirt. And it did feel nice, Scotty realized, to be held like this again by Harris. The other boy was so warm too, a heater like Aaron had been, that Scotty couldn't help but shift just a bit closer.

It would hurt when they left. Aaron and Harris were both seniors, and Luke spoke with Colby so often that Scotty wouldn't be surprised if Luke left, and who would Scotty have then? The police didn't have anyone to take from him -- no one that the future wasn't already going to swallow up.

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[info]onewayride
2012-04-14 01:50 am UTC (link)
Whether that was true or not, Harris couldn't be sure; but it had sounded honest enough, and Scotty seemed too drained to really be putting up a fight. So he'd just have to take it at face value, and Harris sighed. "What made you relapse?" He demanded, trying to keep the accusation out of his tone. Running his fingers through the younger blonde's hair, Harris stopped abruptly and looked towards the door - and, yes, he had left it open.

"One second," he muttered, untangling himself from Scotty and standing up. Maybe this just made him a bigger jerk than ever, but, yeah, even at a moment like this he was worried about his reputation. Then again, he doubted that Scotty would want just anyone to walk by and see the state that he was in, either. He closed the door with a soft click and then turned the lock before returning to where Scotty remained sitting on the floor.

Harris closed his eyes for a moment, battling his own flood of emotions, and when he opened them again, he had a determined look on his face. "We should get those cleaned up," he pointed out, reaching a hand out to help the younger boy up.

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[info]sayitscotty
2012-04-14 04:58 am UTC (link)
Scotty chose to ignore Harris' question about the relapse and instead allow himself to be touched. It was a bit of a struggle to resist flinching away, but Scotty just tensed against Harris. He had just started to relax when Harris stopped and moved away. A small exhale of relief escaped his lips; maybe Harris was overwhelmed himself with feelings of hatred and disappointment that he just had to leave. But, no, there was a click as the door was shut, and then Harris was back to Scotty. Only he didn't sit back down but rather remained standing.

Silly Harris. He should know that he didn't need to stand in order to seem bigger than Scotty.

A hand entered his field of vision and Scotty looked up. Harris looked like he used to, back when they were kids and he was trying to convince Scotty to do something that scared Scotty. Normally Scotty would've gone along, but he just shook his head.

"I'll do it later," Scotty said. "It- it isn't that big of a deal."

As in, he wasn't bleeding out or anything. Already the blood was slowing and coagulating.

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[info]onewayride
2012-04-15 07:51 pm UTC (link)
Harris raised an eyebrow at the younger boy's protests, clearly not fooled. "Not that big a deal?" he demanded, giving Scotty a pointed look, "No, fuck that. You don't get to say that when you're in here making yourself bleed. I don't care that you're not bleeding to death, either. You could get an infection, or you could have severed your fucking femoral artery, and you'd've been dead in minutes, so don't tell me this isn't a big deal, Scotty." With a huff of frustration, Harris bent down and picked Scotty up, shifting to get a proper hold of him before he straightened up - and Jesus, he was light. Lighter than Addison; lighter than most of the Cheerios he'd been with, even - and that was saying something.

"Christ, Scotty, when was the last time you ate?" He muttered, his earlier thought about missing Scotty at lunch resurfacing as he walked toward Aaron and Scotty's shared bathroom.

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[info]sayitscotty
2012-04-15 08:52 pm UTC (link)
Scotty didn't even know what a femoral artery was, so he said nothing in response. It turned out that he didn't need to have bothered anyway, because Harris was back on his level but then not as he lifted Scotty up. For those first few moments, Scotty merely tensed but allowed it to happen. Surely Harris would be putting him down any second now.

Yup. Any second.

But as Scotty waited, he began to realize that Harris wasn't letting him down. He was walking instead, still carrying Scotty, and he didn't show any signs of letting go. Scotty began to squirm weakly -- he didn't want to be dropped, but he didn't want to be carried either -- and push lightly at Harris. All that stopped though once Harris popped the question, and guiltily Scotty couldn't even remember. Thursday, maybe? Wednesday? Whenever he saw Tak last.

Harris would kill him if he said that though, so Scotty did what he did best: he changed the subject. He tensed a little as they walked outside and glanced around. All the doors remained shut and there weren't any noises indicating someone was about to walk out, so Scotty looked down at his still bloody legs.

"You're going to get blood on you," he murmured, squirming once again.

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[info]onewayride
2012-04-15 09:05 pm UTC (link)
The older boy frowned when Scotty began to squirm in his arms, but he was easy enough to keep a hold of. His frown only deepened when Scotty ignored his question and tried to change the subject. That was twice today he'd ignored something Harris had said, and he didn't like it. Not only did he hate being ignored, it was worrisome. "I don't care," he muttered, shaking his head as they reached the bathroom, "Answer the question."

Letting Scotty down to sit on the counter, Harris turned to shut and lock the door before turning back to the junior. He reached behind the other blond to turn on the tap, and then grab a hand-towel and put it under the water for a moment before wringing it out and beginning to clean the blood from Scotty's legs. Once that was done, he'd be able to properly see the damages.

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[info]sayitscotty
2012-04-15 10:08 pm UTC (link)
"I haven't been hungry," was Scotty's answer, reluctantly dragged out of him by Harris' persistence. At least it was vague though; Harris could interpret the sentence however he wanted. He would anyway, so why should Scotty bother with giving the facts? Harris would freak out no matter what Scotty said. And "not being hungry" sounded a lot better than "I forget" -- and it was even truthful, too. When he was stressed, he didn't eat. Not much to it. Only Harris was disapproving of it, like he was with everything that Scotty did. Probably even Scotty himself. He had to be.

Glad to be put down, Scotty gripped the edge of the counter and watched Harris turn around to lock the door. The hard lines of his back leading up to the soft bristles of hair on his neck, leading further up to- Scotty forced himself to look away and to look at his scars. He didn't draw anymore. He had no business to be appreciating aesthetics.

His head stayed down even as Harris reached around him to turn on the water to wet the towel, and he watched as Harris carefully cleared away the blood. And there his legs were, shiny from the water, and the new cuts stood out bright red and gleaming. Some had begun to heal, while the newest ones had begun bleeding from the touches.

Scotty stared down at them. "Did you hear what happened to my foster parents?"

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[info]onewayride
2012-04-21 01:15 pm UTC (link)
Harris didn't look at all convinced, but he decided it would be best to drop the topic - for now. But they'd get back to it, of that, Harris was certain. He tried to focus, instead, on cleaning the blood from Scotty's skin, but without the blood to distract him, the older boy could see just how thin his legs were. So, if he'd had any doubt that something was wrong before, he didn't anymore.

"You should eat anyway," he finally muttered, glancing up to meet Scotty's eyes before dropping the clothe into the sink. "Do you have any alcohol? Peroxide?" Something that he could clean the cuts with, anyway. The default first-aid kits supplied by the school would be fine for bandages and perhaps even some Polysporin or other antiseptic, which would be enough if need be. He trusted, at least, that Scotty had been using a sterile blade.

As he waited for a response, Harris bent down to retrieve the kit from under the sink, and paused for a moment when Scotty spoke up. Wetting his lips, Harris reached for the kit, and straightened back up. "I heard about it this morning," he replied after another moment's pause, "Why?"

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[info]sayitscotty
2012-04-21 09:03 pm UTC (link)
"That's not healthy though," Scotty mumbled, looking away guiltily. Him, talking about what was good for the body, was almost laughable. The situation they were currently in only made the irony that much stronger. Like he had any right to be saying what was healthy or not. He clearly didn't have a clue. "Why're you asking, anyway?" At Harris' question, Scotty shook his head and added a soft, "no, sorry."

Back in Cairo, he never had access to peroxide or alcohol or anything like that. He had always let his scars heal naturally, without any interference. It usually worked. He couldn't really remember getting any infections, and if he had- well, he wouldn't have been able to do anything about it anyway.

And then Harris was flipping the equation over, and asking why it was Scotty that was asking about the foster home. He shifted, feeling a bit ashamed, and stared down at his legs.

"The police think I did it," Scotty mumbled. "I, um. I was brought in today for questioning. My foster parents- they're convinced I did it. And the police believe them. I-" He pressed down on one of the cuts nervously, needing the pain as a distraction. "They want me to go to jail."

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[info]onewayride
2012-05-06 08:58 am UTC (link)
Harris paused for a moment, and then reached for Scotty's wrist, wrapping his thumb and pointer finger around it; not only were his fingertips able to connect, but they were able to pass each other. "Neither is this, kiddo," he muttered, giving the younger blond a pointed look before letting go. "Eating when you're not hungry is perfectly healthy if you're never hungry," he added. "And I'm asking because you look like you'll blow away with the slightest bit of wind and-" He paused, then, and looked away, busying himself with opening the first-aid kit and taking out what he needed. "And I'm worried about you," he finished quietly after a moment.

He worked at spreading the antiseptic over Scotty's cuts as the boy talked, but swatted the boy's hand away when he started to touch one. "I doubt the police believe them, Scotty," he reassured, still not looking up, "But they have to follow up on any potential leads. If your foster parents mentioned you, then they had an obligation to check you out." Narrowing his eyes, Harris added, "You're not going to jail. Promise."

((ooc: Scotty was supposed to have been brought in on Sunday; Harris went in the day of the thread, which is how he knew they talked to Scotty and why he came to check up on him.))

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[info]sayitscotty
2012-05-06 08:32 pm UTC (link)
((shh scotty doesn't know.))

Scotty met Harris' eyes for all of five seconds before looking down guiltily once more. Okay, so maybe he was a little thinner than he should be, but he always had been. Harris had to have noticed before all of this- before being able to actually see Scotty; then again, Scotty did do his best to cover himself up, and layers of clothes did make him look bigger than he really was. Still though, to hear that Harris was worried only served to make Scotty feel even worse. He hadn't wanted anyone to worry about him. It would be for the best if no one cared about him, really, because that would mean that people would miss him when he was gone, and Scotty didn't want that.

Despite what Harris was saying, Scotty felt like arrest was inevitable. His foster parents were so influential and likable that it felt like Scotty didn't even stand a chance.

"You shouldn't be worried," Scotty murmured. "I just- why would anyone burn their house down?"

He rose his hand to chew on his thumbnail -- a nervous habit he had thought he had broken, up until now.

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[info]onewayride
2012-05-12 09:07 am UTC (link)
((no, just you said today about scotty in the tag, so I just didn't want anyone to get confused.^^;))

Harris sighed, and looked at the boy before him for a long moment. "Tell me something, Scotty," he started, "If I don't worry about you, who will? Cause you're clearly not worried about yourself, and I'm getting the impression that you should be." Scotty had always been shy, sure, and in the quieter side, but the boy Harris remembered had known how to be happy, at least. He hated seeing how low the younger boy had sunken, all because of those fuckers who thought they could get away with beating him. He hated, too, knowing that he'd had a till in it. He should have tried harder to keep people from picking on Scotty back at McKinley, should have heard him out instead of shutting him down when they'd first been reunited.

At the boy's question, Harris couldn't help but glare. "Because they fucking deserved it," he replied, his tone harsh, "Karma is a fucking bitch, but they were bound for a run-in with it eventually."

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[info]sayitscotty
2012-05-12 09:30 am UTC (link)
"You shouldn't be wasting your time on me," Scotty murmured. "You should be having fun and being with people you like, instead of feeling like you need to babysit me."

Really, that was all Harris was doing. Scotty was well aware of the fact that he and Harris would've spoken in person only on occasion and kept most of their conversing restricted online, as they had been before- well, this. This was the longest conversation they had had since Scotty talked Harris out of beating Luke up, and he was painfully aware of the fact. He and Harris weren't brothers anymore -- Harris had made that abundantly clear. And with Ben gone, and everyone else leaving, Scotty felt more alone than ever.

The sudden glare made Scotty crumble, and he stared down at his knees instead of meeting Harris' gaze. Yeah, Scotty knew that that was a huge motivation, but still.

"Whoever it was has to be mad at me too," Scotty mumbled.

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[info]onewayride
2012-05-13 07:52 am UTC (link)
Harris pursed his lips as Scotty spoke, feeling a bit displeased by his comments. On the other hand, though, he supposed that he could understand where the other boy was coming from. It was Harris' own fault, really, that the younger boy was so convinced that he hated him. "I'm not wasting my time," he muttered, reaching up to rub the back of his neck, "And I came looking for you, so that was my choice. You're not... You aren't an obligation to me, okay?"

The older blond raised an eyebrow at the other boy's next words, unclear as to what had prompted them. "What makes you say that?" He asked, finally resuming his task of dressing Scotty's wounds.

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[info]sayitscotty
2012-05-13 06:55 pm UTC (link)
Scotty didn't say anything to that. It would take more than an embarrassed confession to believe that Harris didn't see him in any sort of negative light, especially since Scotty had been convincing himself that for years. Maybe one day he would believe he wasn't an obligation, but more likely he was still going to think that. Harris was graduating soon anyway and would be leaving, and conversation between them would come to a complete stop once again.

It was easier to talk about the fire in this case, rather than how he doubted Harris' words. This he could make sense of, however flawed his logic may be.

"Whoever it was knows my foster parents hate me," Scotty said. "They had to know that I'd be blamed for it. I- I didn't realize that anyone could hate me enough to get me in trouble with the police."

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[info]onewayride
2012-07-03 10:30 am UTC (link)
Harris sighed when Scotty didn't answer, but he knew that he couldn't blame the kid. Sometimes, though, he just wished that the younger boy understood him. Understood that he couldn't let himself continue to be the victim the way that Scotty did, and that it meant a lot of hiding and a lot of secrets. Yes, he'd meant to hurt his former foster-brother in the beginning, but ever since he'd learned that the abandonment hadn't been Scotty's fault and that his bitterness had been misdirected for so many years, Harris wished he could just figure out a way to make amends without ruining his reputation in the process. Scotty seemed Hell-bent on not believing him, though, so perhaps he ought to just give up once and for all.

(Who was he kidding? He could never do that, not when he cared so much for the younger boy.)

"Or maybe they knew that your ex-foster parents are fucking assholes," he countered, one eyebrow raised as he tried to keep away from his previous train of thought, "And that no lawyer, judge, or jury in their right minds would believe you did it, even if you were to be accused."

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