Dakota winces at the pain but let's him clean up the wound. Hank puts a small thing of ice in a ziplock bag, wrapping the wet cloth around it. He applies it to her cheek, seeing how it's already bruised. She'll feel it in the morning.
...
ओह! यह छवि हमारे सामग्री दिशानिर्देशों का पालन नहीं करती है। प्रकाशन जारी रखने के लिए, कृपया इसे हटा दें या कोई भिन्न छवि अपलोड करें।
The next morning, Dakota's eyes fluttered open to the sun shining into the bedroom. She pulled the sheets over her head and buried her face into the pillow. The house reeks of cigarette smoke and metal, something she's half used to. When Drew had first gotten custody of Dakota 9 years ago, when she was 8 years old, he would bring her with him to Hank's old apartment that had metal lying around and full ashtrays. But after Hank had bought his one bedroom house a few years ago, Dakota rarely ever went with Drew. Drew became more of a father figure to her and she sometimes forgot he was her brother. Dakota sits up, feeling the fan hitting her bare legs. She hopes Hank doesn't mind her sleeping in just one of Drew's shirts and her panties with socks. She loved to wear her brothers band shirts and wear them around the house, they were loose and comfortable and she didn't mind it as long as it was washed by the time he wanted it. Dakota grabs her shorts from the floor and slips them on. She peaks her head out of the door to see an empty recliner, Hank must have already gotten up. He probably had went to work already. She walks out of the living room and into the kitchen. The young girls dark eyes flicker up to see a naked man leaning against the kitchen counter, drinking orange juice. Dakota's eyes widen, automatically shielding her eyes away from the sight. "Oh, my god! Sorry!" Dakota covers her eyes, her cheeks turning bright pink with embarrassment. "Oh, shit!" Hank hurries into the living room, grabbing his sweatpants off of the ground. "Sorry about that, Koda. Forgot you were here." "It's fine, just cover your pe-peni—thing, bro." She says nervously. Hank ties the sweatpants tightly against his body, grabbing a dirty t-shirt from the floor. What a great way to start out the day, Hank thinks. "You can look now." He walks over to the kitchen and opens up a cabinet. Dakota walks over to the small table and sits down at the fold out table Hank has for a dinning room table. Hank grabs two bowls from the cabinet and grabs a box of coco puffs from above the fridge, putting on in front of Dakota. "Just cause Drew is dead, doesn't mean you need to go back to your old habits Koda." Hank grabs a plastic chair from outside porch, "I got a call this morning, from the Child Services. We go to court first thing Monday morning." Hank walks over to the fridge and gets his half jug of milk. He sits down, pouring the milk into his bowl. Dakota takes the jug next and pours very little into the bowl, just enough to wet them. "I'm going to get put into foster care, huh? I got 8 months to go before I turn of age." Dakota takes a small bite of the cereal. "Probably to a family full of teens." "I don't know, sounds pretty great to me." He takes a big bite of cereal. "I'll probably went up like Callie Jacob." Dakota smirks, "Probably fuck my two foster brothers before the week is over week." Dakota looks up to see Hank giving her an arched brow. "Have you never seen The Fosters?" She smiles at him. Hank looks down in his bowl, taking big bites of his cereal. "It's a TV show about a foster family. The kids all fuck each other behind their foster parents back." She nods, taking a bite of her cereal. "Very entertaining." "Well let's hope that won't affect your thoughts on going back into the foster system." He says, "Not all foster families are shitty." "No, but most are though." She takes another bite of cereal. Hank looks at the young girl for a moment, he can see his dead best friend in her expressions. In her eyes. It makes him sad, but he can't look that way in front of Dakota. He has to be strong. Drew would have known what to do. Hank wishes he were there to tell him what to do. He stands up from the table and puts the bowl in the sink. He thinks of something to talk about, other than her situation. "So, why did you bring your bat with you? Afraid somebody is gonna rob you down here?" Hank smirks, turning on the faucet. "Well the last time I was in foster care, this fucker used to sneak into my room late at night and told me not to say one damn word or he'd beat me some more. After my teacher found out what was going on, Drew gave me that metal bat for my 8th birthday." Hank's heart breaks in two, Drew had told him a few incidents that lead him to custody of Dakota. "It's the only thing I can't leave at home. Wherever I go, that bat is not too far behind." "Well, thats constructive." Hank smirks at her "Yeah, comes in handy. I've used it a few times." She finishes her last bite of cereal, "I am Batman." Hank burst out laughing, he turns to her. "You are Drew's sister." "Yeah, well, I used to be." Dakota says depressingly, walking over to Hank to put the bowl in the sink. "You still are, you always will be." Hank turns the faucet on, putting dish soap on the bowls and spoons. "You don't have to think about everything right now. The court is sending you a lawyer to discuss the house and the funeral cost." Dakota knows that once she goes into foster care, she'll lose everything her brother had worked hard for just to keep her.
