Eaton

part 1: Too good to be true

Tobias P.O.V.

The last bell rings. Thank God. School has just finished for the day. I get up and pack my french book as well as whatever notes I may have taken. Really it's mostly just doodles. I'll have to get rid of them before I get home.

I take my time leaving school, passing by the back hallway where I throw out Ron the Stickman and take a quick detour to the cafeteria before finally heading for the bus. It's not like I'm in any rush to get home. Although, now that I think about it, maybe I should pick up my pace. If I recall, dad wants me to cook tonight. And also there's the homework. Yeah, okay I really should pick up my pace. He'll go ballistic if either is not done by the time his Lord and Majesty the Mayor, has returned. 

As soon as I set foot inside my house, I make a beeline for the kitchen and start cooking. Today's menu will be featuring a sublime meal of baked chicken and boiled peas. Yum. I set the food with a timer and get started on some Chemistry, something which shouldn't take long since all I have is a worksheet. I should probably take my things upstairs. Last time I was working in the kitchen things didn't end so well. Let's just say books were thrown and papers were torn.

So. Yeah. Upstairs it is. I finish up the rest of my homework before heading back downstairs to check on dinner. Woe to the soul that burns Marcus Eaton's dinner. I'm taking the food out of the oven when I hear a car pull up. My stomach squeezes. I tell myself it's out of habit.I put away the cloths which I was using as makeshift oven gloves. The last thing I need is to burn my hands. Again. Alright Tobias, come on don't screw up. I run a hand over my hair to stop it from looking so, what's that word the girls at school use? Blown up? Well, yeah that. Gotta look good for the Mayor. 

Marcus walks in and I greet him with a quick "Evening, sir." He just nods and tosses his coat into my hands. Alright so he's not in a horrible mood. That's good. I put the coat away and head back to the kitchen. He's leaning on the table, arms crossed over his chest, watching me. 

"How was your day?" I prompt, feeling his burning eyes scrutinize me as I try to get the food out on the counter without any fatalities. 

"It was alright." There's a sort of lightness to his voice. I can't tell if it's exhaustion or he's just in a good mood. Please God let him be in a good mood. 

I nod and take out some plates to dish out the food. I can hear him take a seat at the table behind me.

"You've finished your homework?"

"Yes, sir." I put his plate, (with a significantly larger amount of food on it than mine, for those wondering) on the table in front of him, putting serious effort into keeping my grip steady. I get two glasses from the cupboard above my head and a bottle of water, some way-too-expensive wine for him and my own plate before heading to the table.

"The utensils, Tobias." Oh right. I'm back on my feet in flash and grab some forks and knives before sitting again. He grabs his set and starts eating.

Well, it could have gone worse. We eat in silence for a few minutes before he gives me the interrogation look. Oh boy.

"How'd that history test go, Tobias?"

My bite lodges itself in my throat. I can't breathe. Shitshitshit. How the hell did he know about that? I take a sip of water, forcing the food down. It was either that or spitting it across the table. Now that would be a scene.

"I uh..." How do I say this? "Well I mean it was a very...challenging test, sir."

He sharpens his gaze and I find myself backing into my seat. This isn't going to end well.

"Meaning..."

I drop my head and let out a sigh of what I painfully recognize as defeat. It's going to happen sooner or later. Might as well get it over with. I push my plate forward, anticipating the order.

"I failed, sir."

He nods, as if he expected it all along. History never was my best subject. He puts his fork back down onto the plate but holds the knife in his hand, as a warning maybe? 

"That is pathetic Tobias. Really." I keep my gaze on the water. I can't meet his eyes. Not now. "Go to your room. I'll be kind enough to give you some time to come up with a good enough story." I get up and head upstairs, making sure to walk on the farthest side of the room. He still has the knife, with the wine that's just a suicide mission.

In my room I pack my bag for tomorrow and put it in the knee-space of my desk. My bed is made, my books are all stacked perfectly. Maybe he won't be so hard on me. Maybe if he sees how clean my room is, he'll just give me a smack or two. Or maybe just take dinner away for a few days. I can handle that. Calm down Tobias. 

Heavy footsteps, a  deep breath and trembling hands.

The door opens and my father walks in. Jesus, when did he become ten feet tall?

"Thought of something?"

I open my mouth but it feels dry. My throat closes up and- I want to run. I want to run as far as I can. I need to get out of here.

Where would you go, dumbass? The only place you can go to, is an eternity away so suck it up buddy, you're stuck here.

"I-I tried, dad. I studied and-" I stop when he I realize he's not listening to me. Instead, my father is taking off his belt and winding it around his left hand. 

"I'm sorry. Please, I-"

"Shut up Tobias. Turn around."

"Please-"

"Tobias, turn. Around."

I bite my lip and comply. The dresser is behind me and I decide to hold onto it, telling myself that if I press hard enough on the top, it won't hurt as much.

Bullshit.

"This is for your own good."

Marcus P.O.V.

How dare he? What a disappointment. A shame to the Eaton name. A worthless, good for nothing disgrace, that's what he is. 

A sharp sound pulls me out of my rage induced haze. My son is holding onto the dresser, his head hanging low. His fist is stuck in his mouth in a miserable attempt to muffle the scream. I stop, wrapping the belt back around my hand. That should do it.

"Turn around, boy"

He does, slowly. As if this simple act that I ask of him is a mammoth feat. Honestly, I wasn't even that harsh. Back in my day you would have gotten this as an appetizer if you failed a test.

"This will not happen again, understand?"

He nods. Not good enough.

"Pardon?"

"Yes, sir." His voice is choked, as if he'd holding back tears. Grow up! Who cries over a silly little punishment. It's his own fault anyway, he practically asked for it. 

"Good." I turn around and leave his room. Give him some time to gather himself. Maybe I should give him a cuddle and tell him it's okay to cry. Pathetic. He needs to man up and face the consequences. It's what I had to do anyway. No one ever spared me the strap, so why should he have it any differently.

You went too far, you heartless bastard.

No I didn't. It was for the greater good. He deserved it. I didn't go too far.

A/N

Alright everyone we are back in business. I was going through my story a few days ago and well there's a bunch of typos and such and I have decided that some scenes could have been written better. Here's chapter one after some work. I hope you like it. 

xxRachele:)