Possessive (Completed)

Backwards and Forwards

"No, Liam!" Simon yelled jumping to his feet to stand between his rabid brother, and Shea.

"Get out of the way, Simon." Liam huffed.

"Don't do something you'll regret, Liam." Simon scolded, standing firm. Shea was hidden behind Simon like a scared child hiding behind their mother. Liam towered over Shea, even further over Simon, but Shea was certain that Liam wouldn't hurt his brother.

"I'm not going to regret this." Liam bypassed Simon in a quick motion, catching his brother off guard, and had Shea held by the collar in seconds. Liam was unmatched in strength in the room, so it was not a difficult feat. Simon's hands were pulling at Liam's back almost instantly, desperately pleading.

"STOP IT!" Simon shouted, finally able to gain enough ground to wrangle Liam away from the pale and frightened Shea. Surprised by Simon's insistence Liam stopped cold for a moment and looked to see the fear on his own brothers face.

"He's not supposed to be here." Liam stated, speaking as if Shea were not even in the room.

"I invited him." Simon's breath rose heavily in his chest, and the room filled with a terrible silence.

"You..." Liam faltered momentarily, "Without telling me?" Liam's voice was more hurt than angry.

"You're not my father."

"DON'T-" Liam began, but stopped himself short. "Why the hell would you do that?"

"Because-"

"What's wrong with you?" Liam asked, standing straight.

"Excuse me?" Simon stood to meet his brother.

"Seriously? After all the things he said about you, you go and chose him over me." Liam's eyes narrowed in accusation.

"I'm not choosing anyone..?" Simon paused and titled his head in confusion.

"Yes you are. You always have a choice, and when you lie to me you chose him." Liam crossed his arms over his chest.

"Like you've never lied to me." Simon shot back.

"I.." Liam stuttered slightly, "I have no idea what you're talking about. Get him out of this house." Liam gestured to Shea, "And then go upstairs to your room, we'll discuss in the morning." Liam stated firmly.

"Fine." Simon pursed his lips, shutting his eyes to take a breath. He knew this was the best deal he was going to get, and if Liam was offering him a nonviolent out, he intended to take it. "Let's go, Shea." Simon left the room without another word, and Shea, not wanting to be left with Liam, followed as quickly as he could. Liam, alone in his own guilt collapsed onto the couch in a huff of hot air. He was a hypocrite, and he had no right to speak to Simon like that, not while he was lying to him, not ever. But he had, and it wasn't the first time, and he worried it wouldn't be the last time either. Simon seemed to have no sense for his own safety, and if that was truly the case then Liam was going to have to take matters into his own hands.

....

Asher ran a hand through his blond hair. That day was the day before the game that would decide whether or not the football team would play in the championships, and Asher felt like shit. It was his fault that his teammates and friends would be robbed of their senior championship game, because the team would be playing without their captain, and their auxiliary captain. Once again Asher had let his emotions get the better of everything and wound up costing everyone. He was meant to be back at practice that day, but after the situation with Garrett, Asher had finally decided it was time to stand up and take some responsibility for one of the first times in his life. He'd come without ulterior motives, or equipment, or anything; he'd just brought himself, and for once, that was going to have to just be enough.

Asher slowed his pace, ignoring his friends as they prepped for practice, and attempted to wave to him as a peace offering; he took no such olive branch, it was his turn to offer one. The coaches office was in the locker room building, which required that the ruined boy walk the entire length of the football field in shame, a horrid experience, but proper penance. Asher kept his eyes on his feet, fearing they might turn around if he failed to keep them in check. Forfeiting the championship was one of the last things Asher ever pictured himself doing, but it was Garrett who deserved to play.

When Asher finally reached the office, his coach was sat at his desk, going over the notes for one of the plays they intended to run. He smiled warmly when he looked up to see Asher; a smile Asher knew wouldn't last, almost as much as he knew he didn't deserve it. Asher deserved nothing, and that was a realization it had taken him almost his entire life to make, but he wasn't worthless, and if he treated himself and others better he could regain his entitlements. Asher needed to realize he wasn't the only person who mattered, so he could realize that he actually did matter.

"Welcome back, Ericsson." The coach greeted, shaking Asher from the prison of his mind.

"Heh.. yeah..." Asher shuffled his feet and cleared his throat.

"What's bothering you?"

"Oh.. Um.. I.. y-you suspended Garrett?" Asher asked, already knowing the answer.

"I hated to do it, but he vandalized school property... why?" Coach raised an eyebrow as if he partially expected what was about to come next, but Asher was demonstrating a pattern of behavior, and he had every right to expect the worst out of his star player.

"Because... Because it wasn't Garrett who broke onto the field...." Asher struggled to get the words to leave his mouth.

"Oh Asher." The coaches face twisted in disappointment, and Asher flinched.

"He should play, and..."

"Asher I'll have to suspend you for a second offense like that."

"I know. I'm sorry I took your energy on the team." Asher shrugged without making eye contact.

"Not from the team Asher. I'll have to suspend you from the school."

"That's fair." Asher nodded.

"And Asher..?" The coach stopped him at the door. "Get help." The coach stated plainly, before picking up the phone to presumably call Garrett.

"Yes, Sir." Asher nodded again, solemnly. This time he truly did mean it. If there was anything worse than the walk through the boys on the field, it was the walk back through the boys on the field. They hadn't heard the conversation, but the looks on their face told Asher they all already knew exactly what he'd told the coach. Asher was sure that within a few days everyone would know what he had told the coach, but he just couldn't find it in himself to care. Worse than both however was yet to come; the walk from his home with a few small bags of his possessions. Asher wasn't sure if his mother was speaking to him, or if she even cared, he couldn't bring himself to listen to her. He wasn't sure if Kit had hugged him and told him this was for the best, or if Kit had cried, and created the wet spot on the front of his sweater, but he was sure that he, Asher Ericsson, king of the football team was stood outside in the cold rain in front of a building boldly marked: Social Work.