Chapter Text
In case you haven't already, please read the tags. They're pretty damn important regarding the sensitive topics in this.
Really quick note before I start this : Griffin Stagg and Vance Hopper are step siblings in this.
Breathe.
Vance's mind attempted to remind itself.
He sat in his room, on the floor, spine pressing into his wooden bedframe. Nothing was feeling alright. He could hear his brother (immediately, his mind corrected him. Griffin was his step brother, not real brother), Griffin Stagg, sobbing through the walls. Vance heard him. The boy sounded like he was crying hard enough that he was choking.
Vance had what Griffin looked like during these moments burned into his mind with painful accuracy. The boy would be shoving himself against a wall, trying to put as much distance between himself and Vance's father as possible. He'd be sobbing, both trying to cover his face and block whatever hits the man was throwing.
One time, Griffin asked Vance how he did it.
'How do you not cry whenever he gets like that? Doesn't it hurt? Doesn't it scare you that bad?'
The question made Vance feel ill. Because all Vance could do is recite the thing he'd been told since he was old enough to receive punishments like beatings. Or rather, since he was old enough to understand what his father screamed at him during those sessions. 'Don't cry. Or else he'll give you a reason to cry.'
The next time his father laid a hand on Vance, he'd broken into tears.
The phrase still seemed to hold up, seeing as it was screamed at him immediately after.
'DO YOU WANT ME TO GIVE YOU A REAL REASON TO CRY?!'
Sometimes, he let himself wonder what the fuck Griffin's mother was thinking. She'd married a man who was a literal psychopath. She'd let her poor, innocent child get exposed to that monster. Even after seven and a half years, she still hadn't left the man. In Vance's mind, it was reasonable for the woman to turn a blind eye whenever it was Vance being punished. But the woman had witnessed Griffin being hurt, repeatedly, and still hadn't done anything. Griffin was so much better than Vance. He didn't do anything wrong, ever. The boy did his chores and his homework, he minded his own business and rarely stepped out of line on purpose. There was one thing that usually got Griffin in trouble, though..
He could be a bit a major smartass. And holy shit, Vance thought it was absolutely incredible. He could come up with the best comebacks without missing a beat and it had a tendency to be absolutely hilarious. Griffin didn't even have to think about it. It just came out. That was the issue, though. Griffin would unintentionally talk back to Vance's father, which resulted in him getting pissed at the kid for it.
Then Vance's father would fucking hurt Griffin over it.
It made Vance indescribably angry.
The punishments for Griffin weren't deserved, like they were for Vance. This is why he thought Griffin's mother was a horrible person : she, despite having every opportunity, hadn't left Vance's father. Not only that, though! She, for some reason, had also married the man.
A scream-like sob was heard through the wall and Vance's hands went to cover his ears. 'Like a child' - was the first thought his mind threw at him. Vance wasn't even the one being hurt, here. Yet, he was terrified. Scared out of his wits, just because there was a bit of screaming and crying in another room. It just sounded really bad. Vance had been the one screaming out sobs at one point - he had just 'grown out of it'. Even if it was more like being forced to shut up, the harshness had lightened.
At this point, Vance's breathing was horribly ragged. A little voice in the back of his mind told him that he couldn't do this shit - he couldn't stay here and act like it was normal for an adult to do this to a kid that wasn't even their own blood. It chimed in with a little reminder as well - he needed to leave his room. Not just to go defend Griffin, but also because he was starting to feel dizzy and majorly fucking lightheaded. He hadn't had anything to eat yet today, and he'd promised that he'd get something. The two reasons weren't much, if any, motivation. He couldn't get up.
Vance's eating habits had been fucked for years. He didn't bother with consistency in his meal times, and his parent(s) never really let him know when everyone else in the family was eating. So it was, more often than not, a situation where he'd have to get himself something. Why the fuck would he bother with getting himself something, though? To be fair, Griffin usually tried to let Vance know when everyone was eating.. but it didn't always work out. Actually, it didn't matter. Because Vance was now realizing that it had been roughly thirty-six hours since his last proper meal.
He frowned at the thought, Bruce's opinion on the matter circling his mind. Apparently chips didn't count as a meal. That was something Vance didn't entirely understand, either; why is it that some things counted as a meal and other things didn't? Like, take chips and fries for example. If you have fries (a decent amount of them) people could count that as a meal. If you have a decent amount of chips, you're just snacking. It was fucking weird. They were just potatoes that were cooked differently!
Running his hands down his face, he tuned back into reality. Griffin was a bit quieter, now. Not by much, but he seemed like he realized that crying made the situation a lot worse. Vance gave a small sigh of relief. Everything would be fine.. maybe.
Food. Vance needed to get something to eat. That was the mission, now-
Even if he didn't really want to.. he'd promised Bruce. If he was being entirely honest with himself, he hated promising Bruce shit, simply because he could break any other promise to (almost) any other human and not give two shits about it. But no, with Bruce, Vance felt fucking horrible for breaking promises. It was complete and total bullshit! Vance didn't care about anyone else's opinion or anything remotely close to that - nobody else's opinion mattered. Then there was Bruce Yamada, the light of his fucking life (as horribly cheesy as that sounded, it was true). He would do anything for that boy, and the feelings were mutual.
How they were mutual, he had absolutely no clue. There was nothing to really love about Vance. Sure, certain things may be somewhat attractive or cool to whatever poor sucker decided to find him even remotely interesting. But, after getting to know him? There wasn't really anything to love.
Vance hated himself. Hate was a strong word, sure, but it was absolutely fitting for the way Vance felt about the mere existence of himself. Now, don't get him wrong, Vance knew there were maybe a few things to like. He remembered Griffin commenting on how impressive it was that Vance stood up for himself (and another time where he commented on how Vance was 'super strong' and it was 'really cool'). So that had to be at least somewhat appealing thing.
Bruce had the ability to go on for ages about how great Vance was. Every word seemed completely and totally false, though. Some of them seemed generic, but Bruce always insisted that they were true nonetheless. Sometimes, Vance wondered if he'd shut Bruce out too much.. emotions and shit were a touchy subject and Vance didn't particularly enjoy talking about them a while lot. But this seemed to be a bit of a mistake, seeing as his boyfriend would say these things and Vance would need to stop and wonder if Bruce even knew him at all. Still, Bruce insisted that Vance was a good person - and yeah, it made him feel slightly better about himself. So he'd stopped correcting Bruce and continued to let him talk. It just sucked that Vance knew the truth, even though Bruce wholeheartedly believed that Vance was good.. he just had to know he wasn't.
Almost unrelated, but funny enough; Vance was also a major coward. Take right now, for example. He knew what was happening to Griffin, and yet, he couldn't get himself off the floor to go protect him. He knew that Griffin would understand; the boy had told him repeatedly to 'leave it alone' and that he'd 'be fine as long as he didn't hurt Vance.' But that just made it worse. Vance wanted Griffin to be so pissed over the fact that Vance wasn't there to step in - to force his father to turn his attention away from Griffin. To force the man to get mad at Vance instead, and beat the shit out of him for it. Vance wanted Griffin to despise him for all of this.
Breathe.
Vance was perfectly fine. There was no reason for him not to be. Right now, he just didn't like himself very much. He was fighting the urge to go out into the living room and punch his father square in the face. Finishing the fight that he and Griffin were currently in seemed pretty damn appealing, too. So, Vance made the impulsive decision that would - more likely than not - have extremely regrettable consequences. Although, that was a problem for future Vance, not present Vance.
Somehow, in some way, that thought gave Vance enough motivation to get off the floor. It was odd how that worked; Vance could lay on the floor for hours, practically begging himself to force himself up for a million different reasons. Like tonight's reasons; Vance needed food, he needed to protect Griffin, he needed to move in general. Yet the idea of getting hurt - the idea of practically hurting himself by choosing to walk into this awful situation - was the thing that got him up and moving. It was awful, but that's how it seemed to work.
Not like it mattered, now.
There was this little voice that kept chiming in the back of Vance's mind. He supposed it could be his self preservation instincts - it was just super fucking annoying. Not to mention the fact that this little voice decided to practically steal the was Bruce sounded. He could hear what Bruce would be telling him, here. 'Wait until everything's calmed down out there. Try to think about this before you act on anything. Then, you should go get some water and something for supper.'
The thought made Vance groan. Nobody, other than Bruce, called 'dinner' fucking 'supper.' This entire train of thought was stupid and distracting. He couldn't believe how much he was struggling to stay on track with this thought process.
For the time being, Vance wished he didn't exist. Vance wanted to untie the bracelets around his wrists, take a pocket knife, and slash at them until he could see his tendons sticking out. He wanted to sit there and be able to cry for a reason - because whatever pain he'd be feeling would be bordering on 'too much', and he might be so lucky as to bleed out. His gaze dropped to his bracelets, observing the damn things that he's had on for ages. They were really wide - but the ties made them fit decently. They were extremely good at hiding any scarring, new or old - but Vance tried to shut those thoughts down as quickly as they'd come. How would Bruce feel about it? He shouldn't be thinking or acting like this-
Oh wait. Ew-
Now Vance was feeling the need to think about how Bruce would feel, if Vance decided to let him in on all this. The whole 'oh yeah! I really wanna fucking relapse, but I need to ask your opinion on it before I do anything. Ya know, because I'm such an incredible boyfriend.'
Vance needed to think about literally anything else. Quickly. What was be doing?
Food? He was getting food-
Wait, no, that didn't seem right. He was going to help Griffin... That didn't seem entirely right either. It was silent out there now, save for the sobs that came from Griffin's room. It was obvious that Griffin was trying to be quiet, it just didn't help that the walls were paper thin. Great, now Vance had to feel guilty for that.
Could he get a break? He was spiraling, here.
Although, in true Vance-fashion, he tried to avoid those emotions. He would rather run the fuck away from them than try to sit there and confront anything that he didn't know how to deal with. He decided that food could continue to wait. Griffin was more important, anyways.
Vance got up, quietly making his way though the hall. He had every creaky floorboard memorized by now. It's not like he had to walk far, though. Griffin's room was on the same side of the hall as his, just a bit farther down. Not bothering to knock, Vance opened the bedroom door and stepped inside, immediately closing the door behind him. The room was dead silent - the two staring at each other while Vance listened for any footsteps coming their way. Griffin sat up on his bed, teary-eyed and anxious. There were a few more moments of the two in their respective spots, before Vance walked over, sitting on the bed beside Griffin.
He opened his arms in a silent offer.
Griffin accepted it immediately, letting himself collapse into Vance arms. He was clinging onto his brother for dear life, sobs picking back up again. Yes, Griffin did refer to Vance as his 'brother' - zero extra words attached. Not 'technically' his brother, or his 'step' brother, or even the 'he's my step dad's son'. Vance was just Griffin's sibling. He felt like shit for not giving Griffin the same treatment - but if he started calling Griffin his brother, that made this feel too final. It would mean that Griffin would not only be stuck with Vance, but also Vance's father..
If Vance never accepted the fact that his father and Griffin's mother would be staying together, then he would never have to accept the years of abuse that would be ahead of Griffin. He tried not to think about it for too long, but the fact that Griffin was literally sobbing into his chest, was not helping...
Vance just held him as Griffin clung onto him, smaller body shaking with the amount of force he was putting behind the sobs. He clung onto the stupid sleeveless jacket that Vance wore, clearly trying to find some way to ground himself after all that.. shit happened. He was trying to explain himself on top of everything. As if Griffin would need to explain himself for something that wasn't even his fault.
All it was doing was breaking Vance's damn heart.
"I'm sorry- I'm sorry, I- I know you said not to cry-" Griffin's voice was muffled by Vance's shirt. Still, he heard and refused to let Griffin keep struggling with that. "Hey, no. Don't ever apologize for crying, alright? If that's where this is going, stop apologizing right now. You didn't do anything wrong. It's not your fault that he's a fucking asshole who doesn't know when to quit. But you're safe, now. I'm not going to let him bother you for the rest of the night. He won't say a fucking word to you, unless it's to apologize. It's going to be okay."
There were a few more beats of silence, before Griffin nodded, still clinging onto Vance. He was starting to calm down, even if it wasn't a major amount, it was progress. Vance took it as a win whenever Griffin spoke. "Do you think he ever actually means it when he apologizes..? Because- because when you apologize, you're supposed to make an effort to not do the stuff you're apologizing for again. He just makes the same mistakes, over and over again.."
Damn this kid. It was like looking at himself, from ages ago. Griffin always seemed a lot younger and older than he actually was - at the same time. He was incredibly smart, but he also had this child-like innocence that never faded away. No, not the kind that was like 'haha he doesn't understand sex jokes' - because Vance doubted the idea of Griffin not understanding those. He hung around that fucking paperboy way too much for any lack of knowledge regarding those.
As Vance was thinking - damn this kid. "No, I don't think he does. But it's just better to say 'okay' and move on.. because if he apologizes, that's a win. It just means he shouldn't bother you for at least a day, if you're lucky. Just take the chance that you'll be okay for a while, and enjoy the time you have without his insufferable ass."
"You shouldn't know all this stuff.." Griffin murmured, finally letting go of Vance. He opted to wrap his arms around himself, staring up at his older brother. He frowned as Vance gave an awkward laugh, sensing the fact that he was trying to force a more light-hearted mood. "Why shouldn't I? Aren't I supposed to know more than you, anyways? I mean, I am older-"
Griffin cut him off, able to sense the fact that Vance was just putting back on the 'I'm-trying-to-be-a-good-sibling-and-act-like-everything's-great-when-I-know-everything's-actually-going-to-shit' act. Vance was, also, never a great actor. "You know what I'm talking about.. not with stuff in general. Just- with all this.. shit. You shouldn't know about all of it. The only reason you know so much is because he's been hurting you longer than he's been hurting me. That's why you know all this. All the stuff that triggers his flip-outs.. all the stuff that catches his attention. The safe topics. You got to my room without making a noise.. no one else in the house can do that.. the floor is so creaky- You shouldn't have had to go through everything that lead to all this.."
Fucking breathe, dumbass! He can tell, now!
Vance's mind screamed at him. He wanted to audibly scream it at himself. Still, he pushed the thought down, overthinking how he was breathing, now. Griffin was an observant little shit, he didn't need Griffin being able to look at him and say 'you can't breathe' or 'your breathing is off and really forced' or what the fuck ever that little shit would say.
The worst part was that Vance knew Griffin was right - at least partially. The thing that pissed him off about that, though, was the fact that Griffin acted like it wasn't deserved. As if Vance didn't deserve every smack upside the head and lash with a belt. As if he didn't deserve every time he'd he forced into a corner, literally trembling as he stood there, facing the wall, unable to see what was happening behind him - unable to see whether or not his father would be coming to hit him again for whatever wrong he'd done. As if he didn't deserve every word screamed at him, until he felt like his mind was going to explode.
There were more important things to think about right now though, and Vance had no right to be getting pissed off with poor Griffin. He shoved those feelings down, trying to avoid confronting that shit. Vance offered something else, "How about we get you the fuck out of here for the next day or so? Tell the parents that you and fuckin'- that bitch with the dog? Him. Whatever the fuck his name is. We can tell them that you planned on hanging out at his house tonight into tomorrow. I'll just bargain with them tomorrow to let you stay another night. I'll walk you there. You know that dipshit won't ask any questions about it, either."
Griffin sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Billy- his name is Billy.." he got himself off the bed, heading over to his dresser. It got Vance to smile slightly, seeing Griffin getting ready to leave that hellhole, even if it was only for a while. 'Enjoy it while you can, kid.. he's only going to allow 'sleepovers' for so much longer..'
It didn't take Griffin long to get everything packed, Vance making sure to stay in front of him as they made their way through the house. Even now, Vance didn't make a sound as he moved through the halls. Almost every floorboard that Griffin stepped on creaked lightly under his weight.
They'd gotten to the living room, only to run into Vance's father. Vance had to tilt his head up slightly to look at him, frowning as he did so. He was just happy that the man was speaking directly to him, instead of Griffin..
"Where the hell do you two think you're going?"
Vance had this story planned. "I'm bringing Griffin to his friend's house. They've been planning this hangout for over a week, now, and he just told me that everyone forgot. Except me. You agreed to him staying the night tonight, on Thursday." He was lying through his teeth - to a man who's number one rule in that house was that they didn't lie. If Vance got caught here, he would really wish that he'd just stayed in his room, forcing himself to bleed out on his floor. This would be fine, though.
"I did, now?"
"You, you did." Vance's gaze unintentionally hardened. He wanted to scream at him, again. 'Either call me out and beat the shit out of me, here and now, or let us fucking leave!' He didn't say that out loud, though. "You just forgot. Like you do with all the important shit your kids have going on in their lives."
He was testing his father. He was waiting to be slapped for talking back.. but it never came.
"I can drive him."
Immediately, Griffin grabbed onto the back out Vance's jacket. It was out of the man's sight, but enough for Vance to know that Griffin did not want to do that. They could be caught in their lie far too easily with that route. "It's fine. I'll just walk with him." He lightly took Griffin's arm, starting to lead the younger towards the door. "I'll be back later."
Suddenly, out of nowhere, his father made a comment. One that rang in his head like the sound of a gunshot. "You're getting your hair cut tomorrow. You're starting to look like a fucking girl.." there was a pause, "... or a fag."
Vance and Griffin left the house,.
Breathe, Vance. Come on. Fucking breathe. You're lightheaded already, don't make it worse.
Vance couldn't do this shit anymore. After he and Griffin were two streets away from the house, Vance let go of Griffin's arm. He was trying to remember how exactly oxygen was supposed to get to his lungs. It was a harsh breath in through his nose, and a choppy breath out through his mouth. Seeing as it was so quiet outside, the time going on 11 o' clock at night, his breathing was loud. It sounded more like he was choking out sobs than breathing. This entire process was painful. Physically and mentally, Vance was hurting.
Oh, and what made it that much worse? He knew that Griffin knew.
The kid wasn't pointing it out, though (for some reason), so maybe Vance was overthinking it? Didn't matter. He just needed to end the interaction with Griffin, make sure he was safe for the time being, and then he could disappear off the face of the earth. Simply enough, right?
Well, not really that simple. They two had walked in almost dead silence for about fifteen minutes, Vance struggling to figure out what to say. Once he did, he stopped and took Griffin by the shoulders, staring down at him.
"Once I drop you off at Bobby's, or whatever the fuck his name is, I want you to stay there as long as his parents welcome you for. Do not come home until they start implying that it's time, okay?" Vance asked Griffin. His mind was wondering down darker pathways once again. There was that awful spiral, back at it again! Vance hated himself. He hated everything about himself - completely and totally.. with the exception of two things : his hair, and whatever fucked up sense of style he possessed. That was it! That was all, those were the only things that Vance was fine with, regarding himself.. and his father planned on ripping one of them away from him. Whatever logic he possessed told him, 'no, this is just another threat that he won't actually follow through with. Another lie that he'll forget about or just never act on.'
But what if he did follow through with that one?
Vance couldn't deal with that. He could not deal with it.
Honestly? If his father wanted to pull that shit, Vance would have no problem tearing the scissors out of anyone's hands who dared to get close to him. He could see it now - after forcing the scissors out of someone's hands, he turn to his father and shove them into the man's neck. He'd pull them out and go again, repeatedly. He wanted to watch as his father would collapse on the floor. He wanted to watch his father bleed out - watch as his chest stopped rising and falling. He wanted to murder that man, but knew he couldn't. So, he was going to do the next best thing.
Vance Hopper was currently planning on giving up, completely and totally. He planned on dropping Griffin off with the paperboy, then going home. He was going to leave whatever money he'd saved for 'tHe fUtUrE' (a part of him knew he wouldn't get that far, anyways) in Griffin's room, maybe in his piggy bank. Then he'd go back to his room and slash his wrists and aim for arteries, just like he'd wanted to earlier that night. In case it all went to shit, Griffin would be away from the house. Griffin wouldn't have to find Vance in any sort of state - alive or dead - so keeping him at Paperboy's for a few days would work out perfectly.
Griffin was staring up at Vance, frowning. "His name is Billy, again... But yeah. I uh- I can try to do that." The younger boy paused, letting his eyes fall to the ground. He was silently readjusting his backpack straps and gnawing at the inside of his cheek. Anxious habits, Vance was sure. Griffin was the one to break the silence. "What about you..?"
Of. Fucking. Course.
Of course Griffin would ask that! Would it kill the kid to think selfishly for once in his godforsaken life?? Seriously, all Griffin had to say was 'okay!' and he could have left Vance standing in the middle of the street as he went on his merry way. The Showalter household was literally right down the road! He could have just left!! Why didn't he just leave Vance..?
"You won't have to worry about it. It'll be alright, don't worry. Just focus on keeping yourself safe and happy and I can take care of the rest." Vance felt like he was being a little too fake, but he couldn't fix it very well, now. So he just ruffled Griffin's hair, unintentionally making it look like Griffin had just rolled out of bed. He realized, maybe a bit too late, that it may have been to harsh of a movement..
Griffin seemed to recover decently quick, though. He rolled his eyes at Vance, smiling, as he stared at Billy's house. There was a brief moment of hesitation.. before Griffin was back to clinging onto Vance. He was hugging him, maybe a little bit too tight for Vance's comfort. Although it seemed stupid.. it almost felt like Griffin knew what Vance was thinking. It was like he knew everything that his older brother had been struggling so horribly with for the past who-knows-how-long. Vance resisted the urge to tell him that it was alright, that he needed to let go, and everything would be better this way.
He didn't really get the chance, though. Griffin spoke up a bit too fast.
"I'll see you when I get home, right..?"
'Kill me' Vance begged, whatever was out there, to just end this interaction. Shoot him dead in the middle of this street. Plunge a knife between his ribs and then twist, pull it out, and repeat. Strike him down with fucking lightning. He didn't care how, he just wanted this conversation to be over. And the best way for that to happen? Death. He didn't want to answer Griffin's question, so he tried changing the topic.
"Have fun, okay?" Vance awkwardly hugged Griffin back, ignoring how labored his breathing seemed.
"Tell me I'll see you when I get back." Griffin demanded, now staring up at Vance. This little shit absolutely knew and Vance wasn't sure if he was incredibly impressed or extremely upset. Thinking about it now? It was probably a bit of both.
If he agreed to telling Griffin what he'd wanted to hear, it'd basically be promising Griffin that he'd see him. If he didn't say it, then Griffin would know something was up. Fucking hell, this was why Vance had never promised Griffin anything! He'd avoided doing it out of fear that he'd feel guilty when said promises were inevitably broken. He didn't want to feel guilty for doing that with anyone more than he already had to. Bruce was the only person he allowed to feel guilty for, in the even of Vance breaking his trust. He didn't want Griffin onto the list of people who would make him feel truly horrible. It was a horribly, crushing feeling that pretty much screamed 'you're a horrible, soulless person who deserves nothing more than to suffer an incredibly slow and painful death, only to get shoved into a random hole in the ground and covered with dirt. Not a funeral, not a casket, nothing more than an unmarked grave.'
It felt true. Still, it wasn't a great thing to think about.
"Uhm- yeah, you.." Vance had to force himself to take a deeper breath. Unsteady, incredibly forced, but a breath nonetheless. "You'll see me when you get back." He hated the words that had come out of his mouth. He was, pretty much, sealing his fate. Now he couldn't act on the shit that he wanted to. Not while Griffin would be there, expecting to come home and see that Vance was still there.
Vance had practically given his word.
Griffin seemed to accept this, letting go of Vance. "I'll see you when I get back, then." The boy had made his exit, turning and running down the sidewalk.
The streetlights were the only things providing light at this time, casting harsher shadows onto Griffin. Even though the kid was farther down the street, Vance could spot bruises on him. Against the kid's cheek, his wrist, and a few on his arms. Vance hoped that the wrist injury wasn't anything too bad - he'd had one too many experiences with wrist injuries fucking him up for weeks after they were inflicted.
Vance knew that the damn paperboy would be able to piece together what had happened. The kid was annoying, not stupid. Still, Vance also knew that the kid would be able to see that Griffin had been crying. Most likely, that would be enough for any and all questions to wait until the following day. As much as Vance was annoyed by the mere existence of Billy Showalter, he could tell that the paperboy did care about Griffin.. so he'd let him be. Billy could help Griffin. Vance just never knew how to.
He stared at the Showalter household for a few moments, taking it in. The house already seemed far more welcoming than the Hopper/Stagg house had ever been. It wasn't particularly big (like the Yamada's), but it did seem cozy. The Showalters had been some of the most supportive parents that Vance had ever seen, always trying to let Billy know that he was enough. It was fucking shitty to watch and Vance had felt a weird amount of envy towards him for it..
But that was fine. They seemed to love Billy, their only child, more than words could describe. They seemed to genuinely care about what he'd had to say, and it was never just for show. Vance had watched and listened, able to see the small changes that the adults had made over the years to make Billy's life easier. He noticed that Billy's parents seemed to care a lot about Griffin, too.
They looked at Griffin in a way that made it seem like they genuinely cared. Not the way that Bruce's parents looked at Vance - they looked at him more like he was a wounded animal, behind bars. With pity and some weariness. God, Vance hated the was Bruce's parents stared at him. Although, now that he was thinking of Bruce..
...
Unsteady on his feet, Vance had started walking. He no longer trusted himself alone, with his own thoughts. He was going to hold Bruce to his promise that he'd listen at any time, day or night, rain or shine. 'He'd be there.'
Vance wanted to see if he meant it.