AC/DC One Shots

The life of the notorious Young brothers (Young brothers) (English)

This ist for LittleAngrySchoolboy

Hopefully you'lle like it. Don't worry, there will be a second and mabye a third part;)

POV Angus:

It was dark and warm the whole time. And then all of a sudden it was so bright. Colors flashed in my sight and I screamed out loud when someone cut off my source of food. What was going on here Why were these weird people looking at me with those creepy white teeth? Do they want to eat me?! A person held me underwater and I cried loudly. It was cold! I want to go back to where I came from! Somebody dressed me in something warm and cozy. That actually feels nice. I sighed a little and closed my eyes humming. Suddenly I was laid on something and opened my eyes again. A woman looked me in the eye and smiled proudly as she held me to her. A man stood behind her and beamed at me. Was that mom? Mommy! I squealed enthusiastically and gurgled a little. Mama smiled at me and stroked my head.

"Hello Angus." Angus? Who was that? Is that me? I like the name! "That's dad." Said mom, pointing to the man. Dad? Was that mommy's twin? Wait ... that must have been the guy who talked to me. He had told me that he was dad. I shrieked enthusiastically when I was put in his arms. I like him! He caressed my cheek.

"Hello Angus, my little son. Nice to finally meet you." To meet? He had spoken to me! I closed my eyes again. In this room it was just too much light. I want to go back home. "Sleep a little, Angus." I heard Dad whisper and then I fell asleep.

*

POV Malcolm:

I sat on the sofa at home and waited. I hate waiting! I always have to wait! If I want candy I have to wait! If I get a toy, I'll have to wait for George to give it to me! George, my big brother sat next to me. He was six years old. I was two and could speak pretty well. George drew on paper with a pen.

"What are you doing, Gorg?" I asked.

"My name is George. Not Gorg." Said George.

"What are you doing?" I repeated impatiently. "Can I paint too?"

"No! I'm not painting! I'm writing! I'm learning the alphabet! This is something else! Little children paint! I'm a first grader!" I crossed my arms and looked away in a huff. He kept calling me a little kid, even though I'm two years and three months old! At least that's what mom told me. And I think that's pretty old already.

"Gorg. When are mom and dad coming?" I moaned.

"I don't know, Mal." George muttered intently. I grumbled and looked out the window again. Suddenly I saw bright lights outside and quickly ran to the glass wall to look out. Mom and dad! They got out of the car and had something with them. Do I get a present!? No. It's probably something for George again. Shortly afterwards they came into the house.

"Mommy! Daddy!" I exclaimed happily and ran towards the two of them. Mom suddenly wasn't that fat anymore. In the past few weeks she had gotten quite fat and now she was almost thin. "Do you have a present for me?" I asked excitedly. Dad smiled at me and picked me up. We went to the kitchen, where Dad put me on the table. Mama put the stretcher or whatever it was on the table.

"Meet your little brother." Said mom and pulled the little blanket down a little. Big green eyes looked at me. Was that an alien!? Help! He was bald and had a pacifier in his mouth. I shrieked in fear and hid behind Dad. Mom laughed.

"What is that?" I whimpered.

"This is your brother, Malcolm."

"Like Gorg?" I asked quietly.