Paul had fractured West's ankle.
After Linda called the police, she fled the scene so Paul wouldn't know who had called, but of course, he figured it out. He was a drunkard, not an idiot. Dennis had arrived at the scene and surprisingly, was the one to take West to the hospital. They had to perform surgery to repair his fracture, but after a few days, he was discharged and told to rest for at least six weeks.
There were no arrests made.
West guessed that Paul's recent act of violence was influenced by Linda, whatever she said... it upset Paul, and being the short tempered man he was, he took it out on somebody who wouldn't fight back. It's not that West didn't want to fight back, he just didn't want to land Paul in hospital for serious injuries, and Paul getting injured would mean Dennis arresting West, he surely wouldn't hesitate.
He was also sure that Dennis would convince Paul to finally kick him out. He wouldn't have anywhere to go, Paul and Dennis were his only family. As despicable as they were, he loved them. Well, he didn't really like Dennis that much.
-
West's phone buzzed from underneath his pillow, he pulled it out and frowned when he saw a number he didn't recognize.
Unknown number: Hey, R u ok?
W.R: Who is this?
Unknown number: Kill, sorry, I stole ur number from Shirley's office.
W.R: I'm fine.
Kill.A: It's been almost a week, are you coming in any time soon?
West ignored him.
----------
Paul watched from the bottom of the stairs as his son struggled to get past the first two steps.
"Think you could stop staring and actually help me?"
Paul folded his arms and scoffed, "And just where do you think you're going?"
"Work."
"You're not driving with that foot." He asserted.
"I need money, Paul. The sooner I can get out of here, the better."
Paul raised an eyebrow questioningly, he hoped West didn't mean what he thought he meant. "What are you talking about, boy?"
West refused to meet Paul's eyes, he slowly climbed down the stairs, making sure to keep his weight off the fresh injury.
Paul grasped for his arm as soon as he reached the bottom, and West instantly recoiled at his touch, squinting his eyes shut.
"Please don't."
Paul's voice lowered to a whisper, "You're... leaving?"
"If I don't... I'll end up in a body bag."
"West, you can't leave... I can't--"
He put his hand up to cut Paul off. "You don't get to decide that for me."
He grabbed his crutches from behind the couch, hobbled towards the door, and slammed it on his way out. Brittany was already waiting outside. She helped him get into her beaten up Ford and drove away.
--
"West? What the hell happened?"
Killian rushed to West's side as soon as he entered the shop, then helped him as he walked-- or what his attempt was at walking-- to the back of the counter.
"You shouldn't be here. If I had known..."
"I'm okay. Let's just get to work, okay?"
"You're in no condition to work right now."
Killian thought back to the conversation he had with his mother a couple of days ago when she came back from West's house. She told him that something weird was going on in the Rickert Household. He also thought back to what Clancy said all those weeks ago.
'It's true, man, and I heard his dad is abusive too.'
Could Paul really be abusing his son? He didn't even look like the type. But West had been sporting a lot of bruises lately, bruises that he didn't care to explain...
"West, did... did someone do this to you?"
West scowled, then crossed his arms defensively, "I fell. While skating."
"Oh..." Killian frowned. He could tell that West had just lied to him. He didn't want to pick and prod, though. "But you know you can tell me anything, right?"
"Really?" West drolled.
"I'm serious."
"You know," West began, "I can smell people who've got a hero complex from a mile away."
Killian stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged, "It's not wrong to ask for help."
"And It's not as easy as you're making it out to be."
Killian stepped closer to West, who averted his eyes. "Asking for help doesn't make you weak, sometimes it gets too hard to keep pretending. I'm here if you need me. If you want to talk."
Killian extended his arms towards West who looked at him with a wary expression. He hated hugs. Or any form of touch.
"Please."
West hesitated, but ended up nodding his head in consent. Killian wrapped his arms around West and used one hand to rub soothing circles on his back.
West rested his head on Killian's shoulder and sighed deeply, inhaling his warm sandalwood-y scent.
Comforting. I like this. And you.
He clutched the back of Killian's shirt tightly, he was suddenly scared that if he let go and looked him in the eye, he would break down. He couldn't describe the way he felt in Killian's arms, he felt... safe. He'd never felt that anywhere else, not even in his own home. Or in his own father's arms. West knew that when the time came for him to leave, it would hurt them both. And the thought of hurting Killian made him feel uneasy.
They stayed like that for what seemed like forever, 'til the bell above the door rang, indicating a new customer. They reluctantly pulled apart and Killian attended to the buyer as West quietly slipped into the storeroom.
---------------
Paul walked into the newly opened bar. His eyes scanned his surroundings, it wasn't really full since it was still midday. The few people who were there, looked just about as miserable as him. They had empty glasses in front of them, and were staring blankly ahead. He had hoped to find a woman to take home, so he could take her. God knows he needed a distraction.
"What'll you have, sir?"
"Jameson, neat." Paul said as he reached for the barstool. "Wait... I'll just have a Coke."
The bartender nodded, then grabbed a glass from the glass cabinet and filled it to the brim with the sugary drink.
He gulped down the Coke in one sitting, It still tasted as bad as he remembered. He ordered another. Then another after that.
-
"What's a fine fella like you doing in a dump like this?"
Paul immediately recognized the voice, he glanced up from his fizzy drink and chuckled.
"Self centered much? We look exactly the same."
"I don't know," Dennis mused, He pulled out a barstool and sat down, "I've been told I'm the better looking twin."
"What are you doing here, Dennis? Shouldn't you be canoodling with John at the office?" Paul smirked.
"I don't know what canoodling means."
"Neither do I, to be honest. But still, you have a wife. And 6 kids for that matter."
"Whatever, I'm not here on my business. Saw you from across the street in my cruiser. Are you okay? I mean, it's 1PM in the afternoon and you're..." Dennis waved his hand in the air, gesturing at the dimly lit bar. "here."
"I'm having some trouble at home."
"Is that why you fractured that boy's ankle? What'd he do anyway?" He folded his arms and watched Paul intently, hoping he had a good story to tell.
"Nothing."
"What do you mean nothing? Did he disrespect you again? I know he's a disrespectful child."
That boy is as good natured as his mother was, Dennis.
"He's not a child and he's definitely not disrespectful." Paul returned aggressively, making Dennis quirk his brow.
"He's leaving... after graduation, I think."
"That's some good fucking news right there. You've wasted 18 years of your life taking care of somebody else's kid. This demands a celebration. Barkeep," Dennis called out as he snapped his fingers, "I'm gonna need your finest--"
"When are you gonna get it through your thick skull," Paul snapped, his voice thick with emotion, causing the bartender to scurry away. "That West IS my kid?"
Dennis watched the bartender run to attend to other customers and sneered, then picked his brown Sherrif's hat up from the bar and stood up. "I don't know what's going on in that head'a yours, but you need help. Defending a kid I know you loathe to the core? A kid that's not even your own blood? You're sick." Dennis shook his head in disgust and marched towards the exit.
Paul's jaw ticked, he watched as Dennis walked out the bar, carrying an aura of hostility with him. He wondered how his twin brother could be filled with so much hate. The way he despised West was unhealthy.
Dennis said he needed help. And Paul knew he did. Probably not psychological help as Dennis suggested, though.
And He would get help. He wanted to be a real father to his son, to show him that he really loved him. He wanted to apologize, for everything. He decided then and there that he would beat his alcohol addiction and curb the violent tendencies that came with it.
Whatever it takes.
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