ERROR // CALM AU

1

Warning: homophobic abuse and violence.

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Pain. Hot, searing pain was all Ashton could feel as his legal guardian held his arm over the burner of the gas stove, dangerously close to the flame. He wanted to call for help, or fight back, but he knew that resisting would only make it worse for himself, not to mention his foster siblings. A faggot meant a bundle of sticks, the boy remembered Kurt telling him. And what was a bundle of sticks used for? Burning.

He had faced this punishment many times before. It was commonplace, every time Ashton was caught doing anything that the man felt was unmasculine. This time, his offence was wearing a bubblegum pink jumper and some cherry Lip Smacker, which had earned him a solid minute over the flame. It never lasted long enough to leave a permanent scar, or even much of a blister, but it would be enough to get the point across for at least a month or two.

"Little fucking queer," Kurt hissed into his ward's ear, tightening his grip as the boy writhed in agony. "You never learn, do you? Stupid fruit."

Tears flowed freely from Ashton's hazel eyes, staining his cheeks with salty streaks. He was grateful for the few drops that landed on his forearm. The liquid eased the pain slightly, even if only for a moment.

"I'm sorry, sir," he sobbed. "I won't be a fruit anymore, I swear!"

"You'd better fucking not be if you know what's bloody good for you."

Ashton collapsed to the ground as soon as he was released, clutching his arm and blowing on it in an attempt to soothe the burn. He whimpered as Kurt's foot collided with his hip, then again with his ribs, leaving him folded over himself on the floor.

He knew that Gina and Tyler were listening from the next room over, huddled together in supportive protection of one another. He was all too familiar with that position; it was the same one that he and Tyler would go into when their foster sister was the one being hurt, though that was rather rare. Ashton usually took the beatings on her behalf. It was only fair, considering that he was the oldest and strongest.

"Pick yourself up and stop your fucking crying," Kurt demanded, and Ashton hastily obeyed. "Be a man for once in your goddamn life."

"I-I'm sorry," the sixteen-year-old tearfully replied for the second time as he hauled himself back to his feet and shuffled back to his bedroom.

At least the hard part was over now. He'd faced all the pain he had to for the day, and the boy was now free to tuck himself into bed and try to relax a little bit.

He could never truly unwind, though. Not while he was living under this roof, with this much stress constantly looming over him. He had to take care of Gina and Tyler, as well as himself, all while attempting to conform to a standard that conflicted with who he truly was. It could sometimes feel like too much for him to handle. He always found a way to cope, though. What other choice did he have?

Ashton's foster siblings stared at him in blaring silence as he climbed up the short ladder and tossed himself down into his bunk, his breathing heavy and laboured. The pillow felt cool against his face as he wailed into it, using it as a muffler for his cries.

Why wouldn't he learn? Why did the punishments never turn him into the person who he so desperately wanted to be, for both Kurt's peace of mind and his own? His foster father was right. He was just a stupid fruit.

Pulling the blankets over his head, Ashton curled up into a tight ball, pulling his knees into his chest. The others knew not to disturb him. He liked to have time to himself after harsh punishments like this, especially when they were due to his feminine inclinations. It was a highly sensitive issue for him, and they understood that.

He spent hours like that, laying in the fetal position and weeping quietly to himself. There wasn't a person on earth who felt as helpless as he did; so petrified of his foster father and so powerless to do anything about it. As the physical pain grew more manageable, the emotional pain was only beginning to take its toll. He was weak, worthless, pathetic. Pitiful. How was he meant to protect his fellow wards if he couldn't even protect himself?

"Good news," Kurt grumbled from the kids' bedroom doorway once day had turned to night. "Got a call from the agency. Little cripple's parents were deemed fit."

Tyler looked up from his picture book, a confused look in his brown eyes. "I'm going home?"

The abuser nodded in confirmation. "Pack your shit. They're picking you up on Sunday morning," he said before lumbering back to his own room.

Ashton peeled the blankets off himself, sitting up with his thin legs dangling off the side of his bed. The emotions running through his brain left him conflicted. It was wonderful that the little boy was finally allowed to return to his real parents– he'd finally be free from Kurt's wrath– and yet, the teenager felt a certain sadness. He would miss him; he had been like a brother for over a year, after all. It was decided now, though, and there was nothing Ashton could do about it. As per usual.

"That's amazing!" Gina beamed, throwing her arms around the small child. "Isn't it amazing, Ashy? Tyler's getting out of the system!"

Being returned to one's real family from the child services system was a huge deal. It was quite unusual; most children ended up either being adopted by their foster parents or simply aging out when they turned eighteen. Tyler was going to be one of the lucky few.

"It's wonderful, buddy," Ashton said with a sad smile, feeling incredibly selfish for his negative attitude. It really was an important, happy moment for the boy, and he was ruining it with his insensitive attitude.

The tiny house buzzed with ecstatic energy that night. It was a Friday, which meant that Tyler only had to wait another thirty-or-so hours until his parents would show up and finally bring him home. Ashton could tell the boy wasn't sleeping, because he could hear cute little squeals of excitement coming from the twin-sized bed in the far corner of the room. 

Trying to suppress his upset, jealous thoughts, Ashton pulled the covers back over him, nuzzling into his pillow as he attempted to fall asleep. One positive thought kept rolling in the back of his mind, sending adrenaline pumping through his veins. 

With Tyler safe, he could finally escape.