Chapter Text
“Why does your neck do that?”
The boy looked up when he heard a small voice behind him. He had been playing in the sandbox behind his house, watching as the grains slipped through the creases of his small, trembling fingers. Turning his head, his wide, brown eyes focused on the person in front of him. He froze. It was another kid, who looked to be the same age as him.
“Why does it move around like that?” The child repeated when they didn’t get a response. “Is it a game? Can I play?”
Toby frowned, shaking his head. He stood up on wobbly legs and brushed his dirty hands off on his jeans. “Momma says I have tourettes.” He said, voice shy and eyes averted.
The other kid tilted their head, plopping down in Toby’s sandbox like they owned it. “What's a tourettes?” They asked, already getting to work on a sandcastle.
The boy looked around, slightly nervous. He had never really been around other kids before, and he wasn’t sure how he should act. It’s not that he didn’t want to make a friend, he just didn’t know what friends should do. “The doctor says I can’t always control what my body does…” He mumbled, wringing his hands together. “I wish I was normal. Daddy says I’m a freak…That the other kids won’t like me…”
The child frowned, looking up at Toby. “I like you.” They said, their little hand patting the spot next to them. “And we can be friends now. I live in the house with the big tree.” They said, pointing across the street.
Toby slowly sat down next to the other kid, their little knees bumping into each other as he played with the sand under him. “What do friends do?” He asked, voice cracking as he tried to force the words out.
“Well,” The kid started, shrugging their little shoulders. “We could start by saying our names?” They suggested, turning to fully face him. “What’s your name?”
. . .
“Toby? Are you awake?”
The world seemed to only come into focus when the boy heard the voice of his best friend right by his ear. “Huh?” He asked, turning his head, only to be met with wide eyes only a few inches from his face. “Sorry, I…I wasn’t listening.”
The teen sighed and rested their head against the top of Toby’s, arms wrapping loosely around the boy. “I just wanted to tell you that we’re almost home.” They said, tone turning grim.
A hush fell over the car as it turned onto the dark street. Connie Rogers, Toby’s mother, was in the driver’s seat, while the two teens sat in the back. The passenger seat remained empty. Nobody had dared to sit there.
When the small, red car rolled up to the Roger home, a blue house with white windowpanes, two groans could be heard from the backseat. There was a car in the driveway.
“What is he doing here?” The teens said in unison, obvious annoyance dripping into their already exhausted tone.
“He’s your father, Toby.” Connie said, pulling into the driveway and putting the vehicle in park. “And it would probably be best if you went home…” She said, her gaze shifting from her son to his friend. She was used to having the other teen around, considering they had been inseparable from her son for over ten years now.
“What do they have to leave?” Toby said in annoyance, still refusing to exit the car. His brown eyes were set in a glare at the figure on the front porch. “He couldn’t even bother to come to the hospital. It should be him leaving.”
“It’s fine, Tobes.” The teen said, interrupting the argument between their friend and his mother. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”
Their steps felt heavy and painful as they exited the car, giving Toby one last hug before making their way across the street. The truly would have rather walked on hot coals than leave his side. They were well aware of what went on in the Rogers home when he was there.
Lyra wasn’t even their sister and they still showed up when she needed comfort.
When she was in pain.
When she died.
Where the hell was he?
“Lazy drunk..” The teen mumbled as they scaled the steps into their own childhood home. Mr. Rogers had been in and out of Toby’s life, and as his best friend, they felt an extreme bitterness towards the man. They knew about the bruises that he left on his wife and kids. They knew about the women he would sneak over while Connie was at work. They knew that he would bring trouble for the grieving family.
Sighing, they opened their front door and stepped inside, just as the family across the street entered their own.
. . .
[REDACTED]
so what did he want?
forgotten.sun
mom says hes gonna
be staying with us
[REDACTED]
how long?!?!
forgotten.sun
dunno
a while ig
[REDACTED]
can i come over?
Forgotten.sun
since when do u ask?
. . .
Toby sighed and closed his ancient laptop, kicking away from his deskchair. After an incredibly irritating dinner with his parents, he just wanted to relax. Of course his father had to pop back in during the worst time in his life. Of course he had to just show up after ignoring the hundreds of calls his mother and the hospital had given him the night his sister died.
The brunette laid down on his sunken mattress and stared up at the cracks in his ceiling. His mind wandered to his best friend. Just thinking about them made his pale cheeks flush an obnoxious shade of pink. Everyone in the Roger household knew about his obvious crush on them.
His mom sniffed it out the second he came stumbling in through the backdoor, shaking hand gripping theirs. He had been so happy to show off his new friend.
They had been there throughout his whole life. When he started school and when he left due to the bullying. When he tried his first cigarette, when he first snuck out. He had been there for them when they got their wisdom teeth pulled last spring.
And they had been there when his sister died.
They cried right along with him, held him so tight to their chest that it would have been considered painful, if Toby had the ability to feel pain.
Just as the awful memories from that night began to cloud his skull, a quiet knock echoed against his window. “Let me in!” He heard from outside. “If I fall, I swear to God—”
The boy forced the old window open just in time for his friend to tumble in and onto the floor.
“Do you not know how to be quiet?” He said, helping them up from the floor and onto his bed. “My parents just—”
“—Across the hall, I know.” They said, kicking their shoes off. “Your mom doesn’t care that I come over.”
Toby sighed and sat down next to them at the edge of his bed. “But my dad is home. You know he doesn’t like you.” The boy said, a hint of bitterness creeping up in his tone. “I don’t know what he’d do if he caught us in my room.”
The teen just rolled their eyes and laid down on the ancient mattress. “He’s probably either drunk or hungover. He’s not gonna wake up.”
Toby sighed and laid down next to his friend, allowing them to wrap their arms around him and tuck his head under their chin. “I don’t want him hurting you…”
“He won’t, Hun.” The teen said, eyes already fluttering closed from the events from the day. They had spent over a week in the hospital after Lyra died. Toby due to his injuries and the other due to their only friend being in the hospital.
“He won’t hurt me, Tobes. I promise.”