Harmless Things (Jean Hobbs AU)

Part twelve

Dean P.O.V.

What's the first thing you think when you hear the word 'tumour'?

Cancer? Death? Chemotherapy? Surgery?

Whatever you thought, I probably did too. In just a few seconds, my brain had come up with every possibility about what was going to happen. You should never have to hear your six year old sister ask what a tumour is and why she has it. I didn't even hear what the nurse said; I was too busy concentrating on trying to stop the dizzy feeling from taking complete control. My energy turned to focus on walking normally and not collapsing one minute later, the hospital setting seeming to spin as we walked out, Scarlett clutching my hand keeping me steady.

Getting home was a blur to me, I didn't really remember how we got there and I didn't care either, that wasn't important right now. I came back down to earth after sometime when watching TV with my sister, and if you listened close enough, you would be able to hear the sound of guitar coming from upstairs, and that was probably my brother making another escape from the world. From as much as I could recall, no one had hardly spoke apart from my mother's mutter about going out to "get a few things" and closing of the front door meant I had been left alone to deal with my younger siblings, again.

I couldn't really complain, because I loved the quality time I got to spend with them. I had overheard plenty of people in school complaining about their parents favouring their younger brother or sister over them and a lot of the time they were just alone in their rooms. As much as I sometimes craved for own company, I don't think I would change anything about the way I lived. Everything I did was for Dan and Scarlett, and I had no idea what I would do without them.

* * *

"Come on Dan! We're going to be late!"

"Okay! I'm coming!" I heard him run into the bathroom and sighed, he always did this. I brightened at the sight of my sister who came down the stairs rubbing her eyes and looking dazed.

"Sorry, did I wake you up?" She nodded and outstretched her arms, signalling for me to pick her up. I never had a problem with carrying Scarlett because she was small and light for her age, so I lifted her up and put her on my hip so one arm was dedicated to holding her and I still had use of the other. I went into the kitchen and turned on the kettle, deciding to kill time by having another cup of tea.

"Why do you have to go?" Scarlett asked, her head on my shoulder as she watched everything I did. 

"It’s school, I have to go," I sighed. Ideally I would stay at home with her, but my mother had been adamant about us not staying off, wanting us to act as normal as we could. She was always the one to hide from problems and pretend they weren't there, doing as much as she could to continue living a 'normal' life. I think it's why I put up with a lot more abuse than I should have. If I was being honest, I got the worst of it all. I always did, night after night, punch after punch and threat after threat; I got the physical and the verbal abuse, whereas my mother only got the verbal. When my father left, it was from his own accord, not because my mother wanted to protect us. I suppose things were different from her point of view and maybe I shouldn't be too quick to judge, but it's because she did nothing to end it that left a little resent in me towards her. 

"I want you to stay."

"So do I, but I'll be back before you know it," I added the finishing touches to my tea and sat down at the table, making a mental note to keep checking the time so we wouldn't be late to school. "Why don't you go back to bed? You're still tired." 

"Will you carry me up there?" 

"Yep." 

"Take me to bed!"