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Nobody had noticed anything being wrong with George, the Brit was good at masking his feelings. It had all happened so suddenly, it had all happened out of the blue. The gun shot, the screams, the sirens of the ambulance, the hospital bed and the wires. The kids were still surprised that Mark had let them visit George, maybe it was to cheer him up so he could get discharged fast. Lando didn’t like to think about it, it had only happened a few days ago. But his brain couldn’t stop thinking about, couldn’t stop thinking about the shot, the sound of Pierre’s screams when he found George, the way George had looked so deflated in the hospital bed. George didn’t know they were back, he’d been left alone in the house. Saying he was too sick to do the mission, so Mark left him there and took the rest of them with him. It was just as they got back that it happened.
The police had questioned why George had a gun in the first place, Mark had lied and said he had no idea. George went along with it, of course he did. He pretended he got off some shady guy in an alley, the police took his word for it. But the kids knew the truth. They knew exactly where he’d got the gun from, they knew who’d supplied it.
And the worst thing for George was that Mark didn’t even care. He just kept asking when George would get discharged. It was him and Max who usually planned their crimes, Mark wasn’t the brightest of people. Max couldn’t do it alone either. He had tried but it didn’t end well.
Lando felt bad for George, not only had nobody noticed he was struggling, his father was being an ass, and he still felt more alone than ever. Lando tried to cheer him, he really did, but George just seemed like he always did.
“Hi, Georgie.” Lando smiled as he came into the room, Alex and Pierre behind him.
“Hi.” George said quietly, his eyes focused on looking out of the window. He looked so sad and defeated. There was a nurse in the room at all times, it made it harder to speak to George because he had to hold off on what they said.
“How did you sleep?” Pierre asked, coming to re fluff George’s pillows for him.
“He didn’t sleep so well.” The nurse said.
“I'm sorry, I didn’t ask you. I asked my brother.” Pierre snapped. Pierre had been looking out for George since he came to them a year ago, he was the one who told George that everything his father taught him was a lie. Lando wondered if Pierre felt a little bit guilty over the situation. “How did you sleep, George?” Pierre asked again.
“Better than I have been.” George said. That was something positive.
“That’s good.” Pierre hummed.
“Hey, Georgie.” Alex got his attention. “We we’re playing a card game last night and Lando whacked himself in the face with a card.” Alex laughed, George’s lip quipped up into a smile.
“It wasn’t funny then and it isn’t funny now.” Lando pouted, folding his arms across his chest.
“It’s a little funny.” George said, Lando couldn’t help but return the smile. “How’s dad?” George asked, Mark only came to see him each day because it’d be suspicious if he didn’t.
“Okay. He misses you.” Alex lied, all of them knew it was a lie but the nurse didn’t need to know that. “He said he’ll come see you later. Him and Nyck have gone out to get some food shopping done, and Pierre and Max needed new textbooks.” Alex lied. Mark was probably laying on the sofa watching some film while the kids taught themselves and Nyck fetched him snacks.
“Well hopefully I’ll be able to come home soon.” George said, the sadness in his voice didn’t go amiss. Lando stood up and carefully hugged him, being cautious of the wires. George hugged him back, burying his head into Lando’s shoulder and cried.
“It’s okay, Georgie.” Lando whispered. “You survived for a reason, okay?” Lando said, he wasn’t sure what to say. He was 15. He wasn’t prepared for this. Then again George was 15 too and look what happened to him. George didn’t say anything back, he just held Lando close to him.
-
Mark looked down at his four year old, the boy was playing with some blocks. Blocks that Mark had stolen because he hadn’t got the money. He couldn’t remember the first time he had gotten little George to steal little bits for him, the alcohol fogged his brain most of the time. But he knew the tot would do whatever his dad asked him too. He loved his son, he hadn’t planned to have him but the world had a weird way of working. George’s mother had died during childbirth, something that’s unfortunate. Although Mark definitely didn’t think that.
“Daddy, can you come play?” George said, making grabby hands for his dad.
“I think you're missing a special word there, Georgie.” Mark looked down at his son, the tot pondered it for a minute, raking his little brain for whatever word.
“Please?” George said, although the l came out more like a w.
“Good boy. Of course I’ll come and play.” Mark came and sat beside his son, the boy handed him a block to put on top of the pile. When they finished, George knocked it over. The boy giggled and giggled, making Mark laugh too. George was due to turn 5 soon, Mark had already sorted his present. George had asked for a new teddy bear and who would say no to a polite young boy. “Hey, Georgie. I know you want a teddy bear for your birthday, and you can have that, but would you like a brother?” Mark asked him, he’d been looking through the adoption agency when he realised he could manipulate the kids into stealing for him.
“Like me?” George asked. “5?”
“You want someone the same age as you?” Mark asked. George was smart in his opinion. If Mark took kids who were the same age as his son, well he wasn’t sure what it would do. It just sounded smart.
“Yes, please.” George smiled.
“Alright, daddy will see what he can do. Do you want dino nuggies for dinner? With some veggies?”
“I wanna help, daddy.” George said, climbing into his fathers lap. Mark looked at him expectantly. “Please.”
“Of course you can.”
Six months after George’s sixth birthday, he gained a brother in Mick. The boy only a few months younger than him. That’s when Mark started distancing himself from the tot who’d spent so much time with.
-
Mark did come later, like Alex had said. George didn’t look at him though. He knew the man was disappointed in him. He didn’t want to disappoint him anymore. He can remember when he was little, he and Mark had been so close. They used to be close, George knows that. He had seen photos, photos that Mark had tried so hard to hide from him. It didn’t make any sense to him, why had he become so distant to George? Had he done something wrong? George just wanted his dad back, he was Mark’s biological kid and yet he barely paid any attention to him at all. George was the eldest of the nine kids, Mark put a lot of responsibility on his head. He just wanted his dad back. He wanted back what they used to. George can remember sitting on the counter and helping his dad line the dino nuggets up on the tray, ready to go in the oven. He can’t remember the last time he ever cooked a meal with his dad. Sometimes in his head he doesn’t think of him as his dad, he thinks of him as Mark.
“Can you give us a moment?” Mark asked the nurse, the man looking at him for a moment. He called his boss through, who gave them permission on the promise Mark would call them if George tried anything or took a turn. “Will you please look at me?” Mark asked George, the boy didn’t want to look at him. He knew he’d probably get told off but at this point, George didn’t care. He no longer found anything in him that gave a shit. “George, please.” George turned at that, he had never heard Mark say please since he was small or teaching the others some manner. He’d never heard his voice sound that small and afraid either. It had been two days since it happened, this had been the only moment they had alone. No nurses, no doctors, no other kids.
It was just George and his dad again.
Even if George loved the others, he’d give them up if he could have the relationship back with his dad. He’d give anything up without hesitation.
“You weren’t really ill that day, were you?” Mark asked, George sighed and closed his eyes. He shook his head lightly. “Why, George? Why did you do it?” Mark asked, his voice going quiet. George can’t remember if he’s ever seen Mark like this, there’s a faint memory in his mind, when he was four and smashed his head open. He remembered having to get it glued up.
-
Mark had taken his eyes off his four year old for one second, he had just turned his back to grab his phone so he could take a picture of George. His boy was stood on the dining room table, a stupid mistake of Mark’s behalf (something he actually took accountability for). He was dressed in Mark’s favourite football team, and somehow George had slipped, falling off the table and smashing his head on the corner on the way down.
The screams and sobs that came from the tots mouth had made Mark so scared. It had made him frightened something bad was going to come from it. He had rushed his son to the emergency room as fast as he could, stemming the bleeding the best he could too. The doctors assured them both that he’d be okay.
Afterwards, once they’d glued his head together, they had given him a sticker and lollipop. They’d cleared him for a concussion but wanted to keep him in a little longer, just as a precaution. It was just them in the room. George seemed happier now, just a few little sniffles but he was more preoccupied with his lollipop than anything.
“My brave boy, aren’t you?” Mark said, he was holding one of his son’s little hands in his own. George hadn’t let go of Mark’s hand since they arrived. “Daddy definitely shouldn’t have put you on the table, I’m sorry, Georgie.” Mark said, George smiled at him and offered him his lollipop. “You can have it.”
“You sad.” George said. “Make you happy.”
“I’m okay. You eat your sweet.” Mark said, George nodded and carried on with eating his lollipop. “No more climbing on tables from now on, George. I made a mistake by letting you.” His voice broke a little, but his son didn’t say anything. Of course he didn’t, he was four.
-
George blinked at his dad. There were so many reasons he had done it. George had never felt more lonely than he did right now. And he had 8 siblings, but he still felt like this. He missed his dad. Mark didn’t focus on him anymore. He spent more time making sure Lando and Nyck were alright. It was always the excuse that they were younger, more vulnerable and more afraid. But George was the same age as them, he was just as vulnerable, he was just as afraid. He wanted the dad he used to know back, he wanted his dad to treat him as he treated the youngest ones. George knew his father had lied to him, he knew he had been brought up to believe that doing crimes were okay and they were normal. But they weren’t and they were far from it. His dad had manipulated him into doing crimes for him since George was a toddler. He hated that. He hated that his father was able to do that and nobody was there to stop him. George hated that he didn’t find out till he was 14.
George also felt isolated. While he was never alone in the house, he felt lonely. He felt like it was just him. The others had been raised differently to him, most of them in care. George never had that. He had lived with Mark since he was born. He didn’t know the world like they did. George had never even been to a real school, the majority of them had. Mick had only been in a real school for a year when he arrived. George felt as if none of them understood what he had been through, he felt as if none of them understood the pain. They probably didn’t. At least Mick sort of understood, but he knew that it wasn’t okay from the beginning. George hadn’t.
George just felt unhappy with his life, he felt unhappy about the circumstances he’d been placed in. He felt unhappy with where he was, the realisation that he wasn’t going anywhere in life, that he was staying right where Mark wanted him.
His father always told him to look out for the others, they were younger than him. But nobody looked out for George. Nobody was there to protect him. Nobody was there to hold his hands when he felt sad. It was always George protecting them, George looking out for them, George holding their hands when they were sad.
George didn’t truly have anybody.
“I know. I know you lied to me, I know it isn’t normal.” George said.
“I did that to protect you.” Mark said.
“Did you? Or did you do it for your own personal gain?” George hissed.
-
Mark looked down at the little bundle in his arms, George was a few months old now and Mark can’t actually remember the last time he slept properly. He rocked the baby gently, he’d just fed him. It was around 3 or 4 in the morning and all Mark wanted to do was go back to sleep.
“Come on now, Georgie. Go back to sleep.” Mark said softly, soothing the boy. “It’s okay, go back to sleep.”
-
Mark looked at his son properly for the first time since George had been admitted to the hospital. He looked pale, not like George at all. The bags under his eyes were dark and bigger than they should be. His eyes looked scared and frightened, they looked defeated. George looked like he’d given up. Mark could see the light scars that decorated his arms, he’d been told they were on his thighs too.
He didn’t see his son anymore. He saw a stranger, someone who’d been slipping further and further away from Mark and he hadn’t realised. George had been struggling for god knows how long and Mark hadn’t noticed. This was his own son in front of him. He’d failed to see the struggles of his own son. At first, he didn’t care. He just wanted George to survive so he could carry on doing crimes for him. But then he realised what had happened, it had sunk in. George had tried to kill himself, his own son had tried to kill himself and Mark’s first reaction was he didn’t care.
Perhaps he’d been a little too harsh on his son. Perhaps he’d put too much pressure on the boy. This wouldn’t stop Mark from subjecting the kids to crime and danger, but it would make him look out for his boy a little more. Out of all of the kids, George was the one who he cared about most.
“George..” Mark said, trailing off when he couldn’t find the words. He leaned forward in his chair and took George’s hand into his own, like he’d done all those years ago when George had smashed his head open. George looked like he wanted to retract his hand, but if he really wanted to, he didn’t. He let Mark hold his hand, giving him that ounce of comfort. Just like he had all those years ago. “Why didn’t you talk to me?”
“Are you kidding?” George scoffed, he still didn’t retract his hand. “All you care about is booze, money and Nyck. All you care about is making sure the youngest is okay, because he’s the baby, because he’s the one who needs protecting most. What about me, dad? We’re the same age! Why don’t I need protection? You always ask me to protect the others, but who protects me? Because you certainly don’t.” George spat, his words hitting Mark like the venom from a snake’s bite.
“You know Nyck is different to you all. He may be the same age as you but he doesn’t act it half the time. Of course he needs protecting the most, you know his situation, George. If you had a problem, you should have come to me in the beginning, not waited until now.” Mark replied. George knew Nyck was different to them. He wasn’t disputing that. But it didn’t mean he required all of Mark’s attention.
“Oh, so this is my fault?” George asked, still not retracting his hand.
“Well you were the one who shot themself!” Mark replied. George looked at him, the tears falling from his eyes and Mark knew he’d fucked up at this point. “That was too far. I’m sorry. I just wished you had come to me, Georgie. I’ll protect you from now on, okay? But you’ve got to understand that Nyck might be there too. The poor lad can’t even sleep in his own bed anymore. We can’t even mention the word ‘gun’ without him freaking out. I’m not blaming you for that, by the way, I’m just stating the fact that it won’t always be just me there.” Mark said, Nyck had been sleeping in Mark's bed since the other day. He’d barely left Mark’s side. Nyck’s head worked differently to the rest of theirs, things affected him differently. Mark had to pry Nyck off him to come see George today. Pierre and Max had to hold him back as he sobbed, Mark hadn’t wanted to leave him but George was more important at the moment.
“That’s okay.” George said quietly, he squeezed Mark’s hand. “I just want my dad back..” George said, the tears falling quickly now. The sobs escaped his lips and Mark drew him into a hug.
The thing was George knew he wouldn’t change, he never expected that. He knew Mark would probably spend two hours with him a week. But that was something. That was enough for George, even if it didn’t feel like it. He’d take it over nothing. Like Lando had said, there was obviously a reason he survived. There was obviously a reason they’d come home early.
At the end of the day all George wanted was his dad back.
And if it was two hours a week, then it was two hours a week.
It didn’t mean George was going to be okay.
But it did mean he’d get his dad back, even for a short amount of time.