|Nicholas Rowland (amending) wrote in nevermore_logs,|
@ 2017-08-13 14:27:00
|Entry tags:||ceridwen, jess van der berg, jesse delacroix, nicholas rowland|
Who: Nicholas Rowland, Patricia Rowland [NPC], Jess van der Berg, open to Delacroixs and Gerald
What: Mommy's leaving home
When: Saturday evening
Where: Haus of Sausage
Warnings/Notes: Aftermath and talk of domestic violence
Nicholas felt better than he had in months, despite the fact that it was still a struggle to put on weight every day. At least he was improving. He was awake and aware and working towards getting back to his old self. He had enough energy to go to the park with his son, as long as someone else was with him to make sure he was able to get back safely.
When the doorbell rang, he was the closet to it, and he trotted over easily, pulling it open with a bit of a tug. It felt heavier these days, after all. When he saw his mother standing there, her eye the colour of plum pie, his jaw dropped open. He barely registered that her's had dropped as well. She hadn't seen him in a year and while he certainly looked better than he had two months ago, to Patricia Rowland, Nicholas looked wasted away to nothing. At the same time, they exclaimed in shock and horror and the other's appearance.
"Your eye! Mom, wh-"
"Nicky, oh my goodness, what happened-?"
Nicholas fell silent for a moment, staring down at him skinny body, clad in a t-shirt and shorts that did very little to really cover the fact that his joints still bulged awkwardly. Of course his mother would panic, but how was he supposed to focus on that when she was in front of him, visibly injured?
"Come inside," he said, pulling Patricia in the door, her protesting and exclaiming over his appearance all the while. They moved towards the living room and he pushed her into a chair, kneeling in front of her. "I know I look terrible, but it's okay," he said quickly, "I'm okay. Mother, what happened?"
Patricia, however, was having none of it. "Do you have cancer?!" she shrieked, terrified.
"No! Mom, no. I'm- Something happened to me, but I'm recovering. You- What happened to your face? Did the Major do that to you?" Anger and horror were warring in his belly, as he waited for his mother to answer. Nicholas had never gotten along with his father, whom he called The Major. Michael Rowland was not a kind man, and he had ridiculed Nicholas his entire life. He treated his wife like property and insisted she obeyed his every word. Nicholas had tried on several occasions to get his mother to leave the man, but it had never worked. Now here she was, looking like she'd been through a meat grinder. "Please-"
Patricia bit her lip, but she seemed to accept that at least Nicholas seemed like he wouldn't die within the next five seconds. "It was my fault, I made him angry."
"Don't-" Nicholas breathed, suddenly mutinous. He was going to slaughter his father for this. His mother had never been anything but lovely to anyone. Sure she could be a little oblivious but to be married to Michael Rowland, you had to be. "Mom-" He reached for her face, slowly, carefully. "You didn't make him angry, he was born angry. Nothing you could ever do would deserve this. What happened?"
"I told him I wanted to see you," Patricia admitted, her voice low. "It had been so long. This- This was a month ago now. He refused to let me come by myself." Nicholas looked utterly incredulous at the idea that an adult would need permission to go anywhere, let alone to see their child. "He said if you wanted us to see you, you would come yourself. He called you ungrateful."
Nicholas hissed at that. "Well he's not entirely wrong, I am not grateful for him or anything he's ever done. I'm sorry I hadn't been to see you though. I was- It's a long story and I'll explain later. So he- He hit you?" Nicholas had known his father was emotionally and verbally abusive. Hell, the Major had made Nicholas' life hell and he had no doubt the man had done the same to Patricia. The man had only hit Nicholas once though. Nicholas wouldn't have believed the man would lay a finger on his wife, that would risk his lofty position in the army. And yet-
Patricia shook her head and then buried her face in her hands. "Not then. He took my car away. Then my phone. Tore the phone jacks out of the walls and broke the router so I couldn't contact anyone-"
"Fucking asshole!" Nicholas growled, his hands tightening on the chair's arms. "I can't- If I had known-"
"He's never done anything like this before! He said when it came to you I got 'disrespectful' towards him! He said you shouldn't mean more to me than my vows to him. I'd had enough and tried to leave while he was asleep. That was when-" she pointed to her face and sighed. Nicholas' expression was distraught, and she leaned forward to plant a kiss on his forehead. "I waited until he went to work and took his emergency fund from his safe - I've known the combination for years even though he didn't know that - and hired a taxi here. I- I'm scared-"
Nicholas had heard enough. He pulled his mother into his arms and rubbed her back gently. To his surprise, she started to cry and he was left wondering if he had ever seen such a thing. Hell, he wasn't sure he had ever heard her be this candid at all about anything, let alone show true emotion. Everything had been hidden behind the mask of perfect wife. "You're staying here," Nicholas said firmly. "We'll take care of you. And if that man shows up here, he's going to be sorry."
"You can't hurt him," Patricia cried, pulling away quickly and looking distraught. "You look so sick, Nicky! He'll kill you, or you'll go to prison!"
"It's not me he'll have to watch out for," Nicholas admitted. He had more than enough immortal friends to make the Major's life a living hell for as long as he wished to. "I know I'll be glad to have you here anyway. I- I was never running from you, Mother. Never from you."
"I know," Patricia said with feeling, running her hands through Nicholas' hair. "I know you weren't."
"And here we both are," Nicholas quipped. "Are you hurt anywhere else? Have you seen a doctor? Or course you haven't. Do you want me to send for someone?"
"You aren't meant to fuss over me," Patricia mumbled.
"Yeah, I think the whole parents fussing over their kids thing is null and void when the parent shows up at the child's door wearing bruises." Nicholas was already pulling his phone out of his pocket, though he was unsure whether to call one of the Greeks, or Ceridwen.
"Well- My chest hurts. And my- my head. He- He pushed me back into a closet. Tried to lock me in, but I fell into the corner and that seemed to snap him out of it for a second."
"I'd snap him out of it," Nicholas said, teeth gritted. "That miserable fucker. I want to kill him. I can't- I hate him. I hate him."