Belonging

Seeing his brother completely lose it wasn't a good sight, and usually, Wesley would have jumped to stop him. He had knocked out two guards, but he hadn't completely lost his composure when doing so. He did it purely to enable his brother's escape. However, he didn't even attempt to stop his brother when he began to pummel his fists into Josiah's face. After everything the doctor had done and said, he had very little sympathy when he saw him bloody and unconscious - though he didn't spend much time hanging around to watch how the scene unfolded.

It was only when he was safely in Josiah's expensive car that he dared to breathe out, physically shaking and clearly on the verge of a full-on panic attack. He ought to be happy, he knew that. He was in a car with his brother and the girl he legitimately loved, now on the road to freedom. However, how could he relax when he knew that they would be chased after when the police were brought to attention of their escape? Knowing that they would be followed when the police were informed obviously frightened him to the core, but, with Maria at his side, he at least tried to calm down for her.

"...Are you alright?" He asked slowly, taking her hands tightly in his own. Perhaps it was the adrenaline flowing through him, or the knowledge that he was away from prying eyes of other patients and nurses, but whatever it was, it caused him to take her face in his hands and press a surprisingly passionate kiss to her lips. For someone who was noticeably gentle, a kiss like that was unexpected... but he had spent months dreaming of it. Now seemed as good a time as any to execute it. "...It'll be alright, Maria," he breathed, smiling quietly at the blush on her cheeks. "Oliver's gonna take me home and... and we'll be able to start a life together. My Momma will love you, I'm sure. I haven't seen her since I was a little kid, but I know she's a real great lady. This is... it's gonna be fine. Right Oliver?"
 
"Yeah," confirmed Oliver, completely dismissive of their intense kiss and the inevitable, nervous giggles from Maria. Adjusting his jaw a tad, he forced back the feeling of jealousy as he promptly kicked the engine into gear. The fact that his brother had a girl in his arms, happy, while he was leaving Josiah behind was... strangely disheartening, though he kept that to himself.

"This is so exciting," whispered Maria as she eagerly nestled into Wesley's arms. "Oh, I can't even imagine. I... I'm going to be in a lot of trouble, Wesley. That being said, I just - I've never done something this wild! Oh, I'm certain to be going to Hell," she babbled before saying a few things in French, her face completely beetred the more she spoke.

"Relax. Our mama won't let you get in trouble, she knows what she's doin'," Oliver reassured. The only reason he knew how to drive was from his foster father and his fascination with the cars. He was taught the in's and out's of how it worked, and Josiah's car was just like any other. "I... I think I remember where we live. It's been a hot fuckin' minute."
 
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"I reckon we're hours away from home, Oli. Can we stop off somewhere to get somethin' to eat, maybe? Or somewhere to sleep? We can't drive all night. We could stop off and find a map. I don't want us driving in the wrong direction," smiled Wesley, absently staring down at his bruised and still slightly bloody fists. The blood didn't bother him too much, surprisingly. He had always detested the sight of blood, growing queasy at a simple nosebleed, but it really didn't freak him out that much right now. If anything, it reminded him of what he had just done, and he was surprisingly proud of that. Having always been categorised as 'gentle', proving that he could defend himself and his brother was a proud moment for him, however violent he had to be to show that. Again, that violence didn't horrify him, though he wasn't sure why that was.

"It'll be fine, Maria," he continued to coo, his arm snaking slowly around her waist to hold her close, both to support her and to selfishly hold her against him. Months of mere pecks on the cheek and subtle hand squeezes had been borderline torturous for him, so taking advantage of the freedom they had to show their love for one another was important, even if he didn't want to go overboard with it. He wasn't so naive that he didn't notice his brother's jealousy.

"...Will Momma recognise us?" He asked slowly, appealing to his brother worriedly. "...What if she doesn't even want us back? They said that she didn't want us, Oli."
 
"Yeah well, they were fuckin' lying, Wes," Oliver easily replied as he gripped the steering wheel tighter, his eyes nervously patrolling the road, thankful for the fact that the road was pretty abandoned from being on the way to an asylum. Glancing back at the other through the windshield mirror, he slowly frowned.

"I have some money," Maria reminded with a smile as she absently twirled a dinger through her hair, her cheeks rosy in excitement. "I... I have some, yes. Enough for gas and some food - burgers. I hope that's enough, aha... I don't know much about Texas," she explained quietly.
 
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"I don't want you to have to pay, Maria. I mean, maybe just this once? When I get home, I'll get a job and I can take you out and... it'll be normal. That's all I want, some normality. Until then, some burgers would be great. The asylum only fed us mush," he grinned, though no amount of happiness at the moment would allow him to ignore his brother's behaviour. He was completely certain that his brother wasn't ill and didn't need the hospital's help, but he also did worry about him. The attack on Josiah just moments ago did horrify him a little, when there had been no real need to attack him as violently as Oliver had.

"...You are okay, ain't you?" He asked after a moment, leaning forward in his seat a tad. "Oli, there ain't no need to frown about this. We'll be home in a day or somethin', when we find out how to get back. We ain't gonna be caught by anyone, I... I'm pretty sure we're alright. And once we're with Momma, she'll look after us, so... relax? We needed to get outta that place, right?"
 
"I'm fine, Wesley." He replied quickly, having jumped a tad at the sound. "I'm... fine, yeah. Just - I want to get out of this shitty town and find somewhere else. I wanna get home, I wanna be able to relax and be with someone who can actually help me. Mama knows what... is going on better than any of those doctors. They don't know shit and just shove pills into ya and hope it works..." he grumbled, though did eventually look up.

"What matters is how you're feeling. Seeing you on that medicine was horrible, Wes. I just... care about you. I missed you a lot - I never stopped thinking about you," he admitted quietly before adjusting himself a tad. "Let's just get some burgers."
 
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"...Don't you think I should have continued with the medicine? I think I need it, Oliver. I don't feel so good without 'em," he admitted as he leaned back against the seat of the car, his fingers absently picking at a loose thread at the bottom of his shirt. He didn't want to start admitting that he felt he had problems when he was promising Maria that they could have a normal relationship, but he also didn't want to leave her out of the issues he felt he had. If they were going to date properly, he wanted her to at least know how he felt - what was the point of a relationship without honesty?

"I get these nightmares or... or visions, or whatever they are, y'all don't get it. They're... weird, Oli. And I feel weird, I feel like I'm gonna explode. I dunno, maybe I'm being dramatic," he shrugged quickly, deciding to shut up before he could say anything else to ruin the moment. He felt like it should be a happy moment, having escaped the asylum with his brother and the girl he loved, and he didn't think he was doing much to contribute to that happiness.

"Forget it, I'm being dumb again. Burgers sound real neat," nodded Wesley, reaching across to wind the window down. "I ain't going nowhere, Oli, we're gonna be fine. We'll be back with Momma by lunchtime tomorrow, no problem."
 
"Look, there ain't nothin' wrong with you Wes and I recommend you stop suggesting that," he countered quickly, his eyes shooting the other another glance. "You're being dramatic, yeah. They put us in those shitty places so that they wouldn't have to deal with us out in society. They think we're bad people for things we didn't do so to them, the next logical thing was to get rid of us." He stayed simply as he tried to force back the anger in his voice. Exhaling heavily, he let was thankful that Maria piped in with a nervous laugh.

"Ah, well... I-I like this you more, Wesley. You seem more responsive... plus I hardly doubt you would kiss me like that if you were on a sedative~!" She cooed with a nervous snort at just the thought of the kiss. Being raised as strictly as she was, just the passionate kissing and light groping felt dirty to her. She played her anxiety off, though, and offered a bashful smile. "This... will be good. I would like to see my parents once again, though."
 
"I can't wait to meet your parents, I'm sure they'd like me. We could just say I was working in the asylum with you? I don't think they'd be supportive if they heard I was a patient, even if there ain't nothing wrong with me. Best to be on the safe side an' all, right?" He grinned, quietly shifting closer and wrapping an arm around her waist, deciding that a simple notion like that was enough for the moment. He wanted to kiss her again, but he could put aside that urge until they were off the road, after things had calmed down a little. Besides, having witnessed Oliver's reaction to their affection over the weeks, he didn't want to make him uncomfortable again. Maria meant a lot to him, but Oliver was his brother and he didn't want to upset him if he could avoid it.

That said, he had no trouble voicing his opinions to Maria about the other man. Once arriving at a roadside cafe, Wesley spent at least five minutes cautiously observing his brother at a nearby table, his expression rarely changing from the worried frown.

"He scares me," he admitted to his girlfriend after a moment, turning back to her as he stirred more sugar into his coffee, needing the energy boost more than ever. "I don't think he'd ever hurt me, or you, but...I don't know. When he hurt the Doctor, he just... lost it completely. What if he hurts someone in here? He's so... angry, you know? I ain't scared of him, I guess I'm just scared for him. I... I dunno. I'm being real dramatic, huh?"
 
Maria watched Oliver as he rummaged through a selection of maps, having hadn't said a word the entire time. With a few extra sip of her milkshake, she let her eyes drift back to Wesley with a slow frown of her own. While she - thankfully - hadn't seen what had happened, she was smart enough to visualize it. She had spent time with violent patients, the bruises on her body evident of that.

"... he won't hurt us, no. He seems, ah... good-meaning. Is that the proper word?" She began slowly as she tried to muster up the right words without sounding like a jerk. "I don't remember what medication he was on but I do remember the doctor made it very specific. I just think we need to be careful-"

"Alright so we're here," Oliver announced once wandering over and spreading out the map. "I'm hopin' Mama didn't move cuz if she did this would have been a waste, yeah? Maria has enough cash to get us home but not much more than that. Itll take a day so I'll drive through the night, I'll be fine," he explained rather sternly before sliding into the booth properly and daring to take a fry, albeit hesitantly. "This is going to be... fine."
 
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"I don't think it's wise to drive through the night, Oli. I'd rather we found a neat little place alongside the road to crash at; a motel or somethin'? You'll get headaches if you don't sleep and I don't want us crashing because you're overtired, y'know? I mean... it's probably the best option but I don't want you... getting too tired, alright?" He replied just as sternly, doing his best to be as protective of his brother as Oliver was for him. Whether he was performing the duty as well as Oliver was debatable; the sternness faded almost instantly, his eyes awkwardly falling to his food.

"I... guess we can drive overnight, but I'll stay up with 'ya. I'm sure Momma's right where we think she is, she wouldn't have moved. It'll definitely be fine," he reassured, grinning quickly as though that would help to convince Oli, even only a little bit more. "...Nobody's gonna find us, Oliver. I'm sure the police are looking, but they ain't gonna track us down. It's... fine."
 
".... I'm sorry," he whispered quietly as he stared down at the map, his eyes darting warily. He wasn't an idiot so he did offer a smile up at the other to at least try and convince his brother that he was fine. Anything to distract from his internal anxiety over what had happened back at the hospital. He knew there was something wrong and he slowly became indifferent from it but for Wesley to see the whole situation made the guilt over the years only return. Adjusting his back, he made an attempt to relax a bit.

"This'll be fine, I'm just makin' sure that this is all good," he continued with a chuckle. "I'm excited, really. I miss everyone so much, I guess. I'm sure you understand, yeah? I mean... I dunno. I'm hopin' everything is the same. I dunno what'll happen but... I dunno..." he stammered out, his feigned confidence fading a tad the more he spoke. "... anyway, I'll be fine. I'll drive through the night, maybe stop just for a quick rest. I've stayed up for much longer, 'k?"
 
"Obviously it's gonna be fine. No need to stress out, that ain't good for 'ya. We'll be home by dinnertime tomorrow, and nobody's gonna bother trying to find us. Why would they, right? We're not that important, Oli. I'm sure they'll forget about us in a few days," the younger of the brothers grinned, completely believing every word of his promises. It was all very simple in his eyes, not really imagining that anyone would care enough about them to chase them for weeks on end. In his mind, they'd give up in days, not being too concerned about their whereabouts.

Despite his confidence, he did panic when a cop entered. Despite the police officer's casual language and the fact he even offered a polite nod to the group when noticing them glance his direction, Wesley still felt alarmed at the presence. All it took was someone to radio in with information about the asylum breakout and offer up descriptions of the escapees for the cop to attempt to arrest them, with brute force if necessary.

"We should... We should go. Don't make it obvious," the man grimaced, fiddling with the straw in his milkshake to try and not seem bothered by the authority nearby. "O-Oliver, we need to go-- Pay first, then let's leave."
 
Oliver darted his eyes back from the map to the cops, though attempted to act calm by offering a smile to the officers instead of expressing the genuine fear and anger he felt towards them. He held resentment towards the cop ever since he was taken away from his family and a part of him still held that belief though now wasn't the time to get distracted by useless feelings of hatred. He needed to get Wesley to their parents safely, that was the main goal.

He didn't need to say anything for Maria to rummage through her purse and pull out the proper cash, her lips pursed nervously. She may not be the most aware person and often grew nervous when it came to social interactions but she was smart enough to tell that they needed to leave and they needed to leave now. Nervously adjusting her dress, she shimmied out of the booth with a nervous smile towards Wesley. "Let's, ah... go..."
 
As soon as Oliver instructed they should leave, Wesley wasted no time in heading for the door. One glance back at the cop, however, instantly set panic in again - the man had clearly tensed up as a colleague talked to him over the radio. Even though Wesley didn't pick up what was being said, he knew from the cop's glances in their direction that it wasn't entirely great news for them. His focus on being subtle ended there, instead running to the car with Maria's hand tightly in his own and, once in, yelling urgently at his brother to start driving.

Despite the fear he had of a car chase, the officer didn't seem to follow them which, after five minutes of stressing out, came as a blessed relief. He assumed, then, that everything would just go as planned; that they would get home without any trouble. Naively, he assumed wrong. After driving for hours without stopping, Wesley thought that everything was fine the moment they got over the line into their hometown, only to spend most of the following minutes dodging gunfire from the police car following rapidly behind them. At least, he attempted to dodge the bullets that were being shot at them once the window behind them was (inevitably) smashed to pieces. In reality, he lasted a mere minute or two before getting shot in the face when trying to cover and protect Maria. The pain didn't register, nor did the severity of the injury. He vaguely remembered clutching his jaw and his cheek with the gaping hole in it before promptly passing out through the shock of it.

What happened in the hour after passing out was, ultimately, a mystery to him. When he woke, he expected to be surrounded by the dead bodies of his brother and Maria while cops handcuffed him. Instead, he groggily stirred awake in the car alone, looking up from the window to see a woman he almost instantly recognised as his mother organising some men he assumed were his other brothers, ordering them to drag the unconscious and beaten bodies of the police officers from the ground into their living room. The sight didn't do much to shock him, nor did seeing Maria seemingly receive the same brutal treatment, with his brothers keen to scare her as much as possible. Normally, the sight would spur him into anger, but he was far too out of it to even acknowledge the danger she was in.

Once the cops and Maria were dealt with (for the time being) Corinne's focus instantly switched to the state of her long-lost sons. Both were clearly in a terrible place, physically and mentally, and it angered her, but she also knew they needed her care more than anything at the moment - especially when Wesley's cheek was basically hanging off his face.

"Get your brother inside, I... I need to sew him up and give you both a bath," the woman nodded firmly, carefully taking Oliver's face in her hands with a tired smile, offering a careful kiss to his cheek. "...I knew you'd be back, Oli. You did good, okay? You id me proud, I promise. Now get your brother, I'll clean you up, and then we can make those pigs pay for what they did. Just... Just help me get your brother inside."
 
Oliver wasn't safe from the gunfire himself. While he didn't get shot right in the face like his brother, a few solid bullets hit right into his shoulder and one nearly hit right into the man's neck. If it weren't for his natural quick thinking, he'd probably be face first on the steering wheel, either dead or completely paralyzed.

He wasn't a pussy, though, and spared no time in brutally and unforgivingly smashing the cop who had hurt his brother's skull in with the cop's gun once getting out of the car and physically tackling the man, even with his arm practically useless. That was where a good amount of his injuries came from, with the cop putting up a good fight and, for a brief moment, got Oliver to the ground to get a few punches to his face and chest before he managed to take back control.

So, with a cracked jaw, swollen eye and some broken ribs, he still managed to come away from the fight victorious completely unaware of his family.

When he did come through, though, he was not only physically tired from both the attack and driving through the night without stopping, he was mentally exhausted at seeing Wesley in such a horrid state. He wanted to cry, huh his mother and gush about how much he missed her but she had a point and, despite being in pain, took no hesitation in helping his brother into his arm.
 
It was fair to assume that Wesley was disorientated, either from shock or pain, or a combination of the two. He had to be physically supported by both his mother and brother just to get into the house and placed carefully on a chair at the little kitchen table. Even then, he was slumped over, blinking hard to try and clear the blurry vision. He was very fortunate that he hadn't been shot in the eye, or had any serious damage done to himself. His jaw was a complete mess and one of his cheeks was barely held together, but it could be helped by a few stitches, even if they weren't necessarily medical ones. He had lost a few teeth, maybe three or so, but he didn't worry too much about that either. They were at the far back of his mouth where nobody would even see them when he smiled... though, he wouldn't be able to smile for a while, or even talk properly for that matter, as his mother softly warned as she sat down to try and deal with the damage done to her son.

Warning him about the pain he would have to endure, she carefully took the boy's face and began to stitch him up, acutely aware that every stitch was causing Wesley agony. The hisses and groans he gave was evidence enough, as was the blood dripping from his lips which she carefully and patiently wiped away for him. To anyone else, Corinne was a notoriously cold, sharp and intimidating figure who didn't take anyone's bullshit. With her sons, however, she was loving, tender and warm, having endless amounts of patience and love for them. It was usually heightened when it came to Wesley. He was her youngest and he was always the most shy; the one who was too nervous and timid. Seeing him in this state only provoked that protective instinct in her more.

"Shh, almost done. You still look dashingly handsome with all these stitches, Wes. A real Southern gentleman, all suave and grown up. They'll be in for a while until you're healed and you'll have scars, but you're still my handsome boy, hm? Both of you are-- sit down, Oliver, I have to clean you up too. You been through the wars too," the woman sighed, carefully kissing Wesley's forward once she had finished, hiding her emotions well. The sight of just one of her sons like this tore her up. To see two of them in such a bad way was almost impossible to handle... but she did it well.

"...I tried to find 'ya, you know that I didn't give up on you both, don't you? I did everything I could. They wouldn't tell me anything; I was a bad influence, apparently. Me, your own mother, a bad influence?! Bullshit," she grunted, moving to fetch a damp cloth to start to clean up Oliver's wounds for him, smiling lightly to herself at how grown up he had become too. "...Wesley's fine, don't take it to heart. The cops are gonna pay for it, we'll sort that out soon. You made me proud, you ain't done nothing wrong, Oliver. You made us all proud. Wes is proud too. If he could speak, he'd agree with his Mama~"
 
Oliver remained quiet during the whole interaction, his eyes locked down at the floor once taking his own seat. He tried not to cry but it was inevitable, with a mix of emotions immediately flooding to him. Corrine was right, he immediately blamed himself for what happened. He tried to be calm and relaxed for Wesley and Maria when he should have been more vigilant. He let his guard slip too much and now there they were, complete messes.

"I'm... I'm sorry, mama," he eventually whispered as he nervously fiddled his hands on his lap. "I didn't - I didn't think it would end up this way. I-I just... I dunno..." he stammered out, though the more he spoke the more emotional he became so decided to just remain quiet. It was a long pause before he finally spoke again.

"I missed you, yeah. I-I knew you'd never give up on us, I always thought you still remembered us. It was just - Wesley was fucked and I couldn't let him be like that anymore. Maria - where's Maria? The French girl? She helped us, mama. S-She helped us escape, Wesley likes her,"

At the realization of the lack of the girl, he immediately grew antsy. While he didn't really care for her, he knew she made his brother happy and that was what mattered in the long run. He would rather sacrifice his own love life in a heartbeat if it meant his younger brother would be happy.
 
For a long while, the woman was completely silent as she cleaned her son's face free of blood, so quiet, in fact, that it didn't seem like she had even heard anything he had said. Only minutes later did she stop to react to it, placing the towel down with a serious frown on her face. "And what did I tell you about outsiders, Oliver? Do you really think that gal in there is gonna keep her pretty lil' mouth shut after we're done with the pigs? Do 'ya really think she's gonna accept our lifestyle without complaint? Outsiders don't get us, they're never gonna get us, darlin'. She'll try and escape and if she does, I'll lose you again-- I'll lose all you boys. I won't let that happen. Wes will get over it, he's back home now, he doesn't need some... floozy corrupting him."

Throughout the discussion, Wesley was just as silent as his mother had been, though was clearly listening in and understanding everything that was said... including the mention of their lifestyle. It had been something he barely remembered, the events of his past that he had once shunned in fear as a child being blurred to him after years of medication. Being back at the house with his family, however, seemed to bring everything back to him within seconds. He remembered everything his family took part in when he was younger, and it didn't... shock him as much as he thought it would. Hell, he didn't want to turn away when the policemen were killed; he was quite happy to sit and watch their murders after getting shot in the face by them. It felt like justice, if nothing else.

Maria was different, of course. She wasn't cruel and she hadn't done anything bad to him, but he also knew that she wasn't going to easily accept what the family chose to do to outsiders. He didn't want her to die, but leaving her to live freely in the house was a recipe for disaster - she would inevitably escape and find help which would ruin everything.

"Shh, don't try to talk, Wes. It'll just hurt you more, hm?" Corinne frowned, moving to clean more blood from Wes' mouth after his attempts to open it and communicate how he felt. It did only bring pain -agonising amounts of it, in fact- and the closest he got to forming a word was a quiet groan, so it was more or less useless trying. "...Go and sit at the dinner table, you two. I'll get some soup going. I think your brothers have tied those three up in the dining room, so don't talk to 'em. We'll deal with them after our meals, you need your energy first."
 
Oliver shot his brother a wary look though reluctantly followed, holding his limp arm cautiously. HE wanted to say more - to explain the situation in Wesley's defense, but his lack of energy and the fact that his mother had a natural way of taking charge stopped that quick in its track. Waiting for Wesley to join, he hid his genuine fear with pursed lips.

He hadn't seen his brothers in a decade, after all. He and Wesley were just kids when they were taken away while their brothers were almost all adults of at least mid teens. A sudden rush of insecurity hit him, especially since he knew both he and Wes probably weren't nearly as muscular or rugged as them. He had no control over it, especially when you're bound pretty tight or too fucked up on drugs to really do anything, but he always looked up to his brothers and idolized them. It didn't take a genius to tell that he and Wes weren't the same anymore.

"Ah... yeah. I miss you're cooking a lot," he eventually commented, though in reality it was a lie. He could barely remember what she cooked except for the fact that it was more often than not human remains. It wasn't like the food his foster parents made but anything was better than the asylum food. "... I'm sorry mama."
 
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