If the conception of Adam Parrish had been an unhappy surprise, it was nothing in comparison to that of his younger brother.

　　Adam had spent a large portion of his childhood being reminded that he was the reason his parents were stuck together; if he hadn’t had the audacity to demand existence, his parents wouldn’t have had to get married so quickly, wouldn’t have had to waste their money. It was very carefully impressed upon him that he had been a burden the moment his heart had started pumping blood, and that it was this burden that had so held Robert and Alice Parrish back in life. He had accepted this. Understood it. Believed it. He worked very hard to make up everything he had ever taken from his parents, worked very hard to stop taking from them, worked very hard to erase all his debts. It wasn’t easy. While Adam wasn’t exactly a very expensive child, there were too many unavoidable and constant costs that accompanied his existence, continued adding to his bill. Food, schooling, vaccinations, clothes, more clothes when he grew too quickly, doctor fees for when he broke his arm, for when he broke his other arm as well.

　　By the time he was 13, it had come to his attention, through careful observation of the world around him, that in fact it was not his fault he was born, was not in fact obliged to continue making up and apologising for his subsistence.

　　Of course, there was a difference between knowing and believing. There was a difference between believing things to be true for other people, but not for yourself. He couldn’t make up the distance between these things. Didn’t see the point in it. Even if he could force himself to truly believe he didn’t deserve to be blamed for being born, it wasn’t exactly as if the blaming would stop, as if his parents would align their beliefs with him and stop requesting the money from his part time jobs to pay for his food, his clothes, or even better, let him quit his jobs and pay more attention to school and sleep. It was far easier to simply agree with what was being said to you, it didn’t chafe so much that way, and Adam couldn’t afford anything else slowing him down. He was 13, and he had a plan, and that plan didn’t involve finding some semblance of self worth while he was still pinned down in this trailer. He could believe himself worth something when he had proved it, when he had left this place, when he didn’t need to look back.

　　Then Alice figured out she was pregnant. Some people find it immediately obvious that they’re pregnant. They get nausea early on, they gain weight, they’re craving food, they feel strange, the list of symptoms go on. Other people notice nothing for months on end, their bodies just continue on as normal, doesn’t put any warning lights on to inform you that it’s starting a new project. Alice was in the second group of people. Didn’t think anything was truly amiss until she was five months in and her jeans finally didn’t button up anymore. This was an issue which resulted in an argument that lasted a full day and ended with two black eyes, one for Alice, one for Adam, and Robert going to stay with a friend for the week.

　　Alice had said it was too late to do anything about it. Robert suggested it wasn’t too late if they didn’t go by usual routes. Alice pointed out that this was dangerous. Robert pointed out that he could be more dangerous. Alice suggested she could leave him. Robert reminded her that she hadn’t yet. Alice said she didn’t want it, it wasn’t her fault he’d knocked her up. Robert illustrated just how much he didn’t think it was his fault, using his fists and the wall. It was very persuading.

　　It didn’t really matter. The conception, the circumstances, the arguments surrounding it all. What was important was that Ethan was born before Adam turned 14. What was important was that Ethan being born put a damper on Adam’s plans to leave. What was important was that Adam resented this, resented this until his bones ached with it. Resented this but could not bring himself to consider Ethan a burden. It wasn’t his fault he was born into this badly constructed family. It wasn’t his fault that his being born meant that Adam had to get another part time job to help with the bills. It wasn’t his fault that neither Robert or Alice wanted him at any point.

　　What was important was that Adam had very, very few memories of parental affection, or any affection, did not have the capability or time to seek it out elsewhere. Did not have the emotional wealth to give it out without receiving it in turn. Ethan couldn’t return it. But when Adam came home and fetched him from his bed, stopped the crying, fixed the problem, their mother would smile at Adam, and that was close enough.

　　What was important was that Adam hadn’t been broken out of knowing how to love, figured it out himself, gave it to Ethan. What was important was that by the time Ethan was 1, with no example of parental love, he already knew he was loved.

　　So, this is how it went. Adam did not abandon his plan, he just stretched it out a little, changed the details, accounted for further expenses, logistics of the pros and cons of legal custody.

　　This is how it went. Adam found another job, tried his best to forget about his aspirations for Aglionby, found another job, got all A’s, barely slept.

　　This is how it went. Adam woke earlier than the sun, cycled across town to a dusty and cramped factory, worked until the last possible moment, and then cycled home to change clothes and dress Ethan. Adam swapped lawn mowing for child care - he would take Ethan with him on his way to school in the mornings, drop him off at the house of a work acquaintance, Jules and his wife Dana. In return, Adam would mow their lawns once a week, do any other small jobs in the garden that they asked him to. After school, he would head to work at Boyd’s. After Boyd’s, it was back to pick up Ethan, then back home. At home there was homework, chores, and keeping Ethan out from under his parent’s feet. Then he would put Ethan to bed, get back on his bike, and cycle into town for his shift at the cafe, where he would serve the boys he wanted to be, and wash dishes until both his hands and his soul felt like they were deteriorating. He would cycle home. He would crawl into his bed. Ethan would crawl out of his bed, and into Adam’s bed. They would both sleep. And then they would do it all again.

　　This is how it went. If Adam could keep Ethan out of the house for long enough, quiet for long enough, happy for long enough, then his father would only hit Adam. His mother would only scold Adam. Ethan could escape with Adam unscathed. It was the unspoken deal in the house. Not the escaping, that was the unspoken and the unknown. If Adam shut up, if Adam kept Ethan shut up, Adam wouldn’t have to bear witness to Ethan being hurt. It was enough.

　　It wasn’t so bad. It could be worse. Adam could do this. Would do this. Couldn’t not do this.

　　It was harder today. Not a new kind of hard, not even a rare kind of hard, just a hard which would disrupt his day enough to disrupt his week, and if it kept being hard, might disrupt his life timeline by a few more months.

　　Ethan wouldn’t go to sleep. This might not sound like a huge thing. This probably only sounds like a mild irritation in the everyday scheme of life.

　　Ethan would not go to sleep, he had tripped and fallen while at childcare that afternoon and skinned his knee, and only now was he deciding that it really, really, really hurt. 3 year olds, once they set their mind on not sleeping in favour of something else, are very difficult to persuade. Even mild mannered ones such as Ethan.

　　Ethan would not go the fuck to sleep and Adam needed to go to the cafe, needed to know that Ethan would be asleep, not getting on their parent’s nerves, getting in trouble.

　　If Adam was his father, he knew very well what he would do in this circumstance. There were in fact, a few options. Give Ethan something real to cry about. Leave and lock the door. Yell at Alice to shut the noise off until either the noise stopped or he got bored of yelling and decided to speak with his hands instead.

　　Adam wrapped Ethan up, like a small, inconsolable burrito, took his largest jacket - a ratty offcast from their father - and buttoned Ethan up against his chest. Cycled one handed into town, one arm busy holding Ethan tightly against him. If this was his factory shift, he wouldn’t be able to do this - he’d have to drop by Jule’s and apologise profusely and plead. Jules would roll his eyes, and Dana would sigh, but they’d take Ethan and it would be alright and Adam would be further in debt. At the cafe he knew his boss disapproved, but not enough to tell him to stop, not enough that he didn’t sigh and suggest he park Ethan and his blankets on the break room couch. On good nights, or rather, on the nights that started bad because Ethan wouldn’t sleep, and then gradually shifted into ok nights because his boss didn’t fire him for bringing a toddler to his job, Ethan would be asleep by the time they arrived. Somehow the bumpy, sweat inducing ride inside Adam’s jacket lulled him to sleep better than whispered lullabies and a semi comfortable mattress. He would stay asleep as Adam would deposit him in the break room. He might wake up a little when the other workers took a break, but they would pat his head and talk quietly and he would go back to sleep. He would stay asleep as Adam cycled them back home and tucked Ethan into bed beside him.

　　Tonight was just a bad night all around.

　　Nino’s was jam-packed. He had arrived, already bedraggled due to the excess exertion it took to peddle a crying child, to a madhouse of Aglionby students, and an irate Blue. She had taken one look at the still sniffling Ethan in Adam’s arms, and cursed ferociously in a very Blue way, which meant that none of the words were technically swears, but they sure sounded like it.

　　“Hestia, Adam,” she snapped, voice only hard due to their surroundings, “you really had to bring him in tonight?”

　　Adam did his very level best not to snap back. He snapped back anyway. He had already spent all his energy in being polite at school, at his after school job, at home.

　　“I didn’t have a fu- a choice, Blue,” he gritted out over the noise of rioting students. “He wouldn’t sleep and I couldn’t leave him. What the hell is going on here?”

　　In her favour, Blue only rolled her eyes instead of raising to argument bait like she sometimes did when Adam’s voice hardened. She took him by the elbow, brushed Ethan’s dusty hair out of his damp eyes, and dragged them both to the break room.

　　“Some Raven Boy sport celebration. I don’t know. I keep overhearing things about how ridiculously buff they all are, and how any simple waitress wouldn’t be able to keep her hands off their guns. I can tell you now that their noodle arms aren’t the kind of gun I feel the need to restrain myself from currently.”

　　Adam would have laughed if he didn’t already feel stretched to the breaking point. He smiled weakly instead, juggled Ethan inside his coat. Blue began undoing his buttons for him while he held Ethan up, and Ethan finally stopped sniffling to fake shyness. He liked Blue a lot, but he always had to warm back up to her every time they met. Blue didn’t mind, she said she liked the challenge.

　　“What are you going to do, Adam?” Blue asked once the jacket was undone, and Ethan was technically released but still clinging tightly to Adam’s neck. Adam blinked.

　　“I mean,” she said, “he doesn’t look like he’s gonna go to sleep, it’s too noisy anyway, and I need you out there like, five minutes ago.”

　　On the bad nights, Adam had two choices. He could choose to leave Ethan in the break room, shut the door behind him so Ethan couldn’t follow, and hope that Ethan would go to sleep sooner rather than later. Or, he could put Ethan up on his hip, plaster on his blandest face, and go and entertain the ravens in the front. He didn’t really want to choose either of these.

　　He put Ethan down on the couch, said he would be back very soon, did not shut the door. He had too much experience with closed doors, could not bear to be the one closing them. Even if it was the sensible options. On good nights, Ethan would be comforted by the sound of the kitchen and the cafe, would close his eyes and go to sleep before Adam had returned to check on him.

　　As previously mentioned, this was a bad night, and Adam was halfway through taking an excessively snobbishly Aglionby order, pizza with fucking avocado

who really wants warm avo if they’re not doing it for the aesthetics?

, when he heard Blue call his name in a warning tone mere moments before Ethan’s hands attached themselves to his trouser legs.