patrick

patrick griffin. 28. "your perspective on life comes from the cage you were held captive in."

[finleygriffin]

Finley looked at Patrick, setting his jaw firmly. He took his words as nothing but a challenge. And really, there wasn’t any difference from Patrick reprimanding him to another adult. Finley didn’t respond well to authority from anyone and hearing what Patrick was saying to him only made him much more angry than he’d been before - if that were even possible. Right now, the legal crap that Patrick was talking to him about made very little sense to Finley and there was a very high chance he wouldn’t bother to look into it. He didn’t care what the law said, as far as he was concerned, he was in charge of himself and he could look after himself. He didn’t need Patrick to be here for him. He was fine. “Oh yeah?” he asked. “What did you do for me? Besides fuck off at the first chance you got? Because I distinctively remember you walking out that door. Was that looking after me? Was that keeping me safe and taking care of me?” Finley ignored the usual shake his voice held then. He hated that the things he’d said then had dug in deep and unearthed things he’d long since buried. The pain of Patrick leaving was something he had tried to acknowledge once but had found it was easier to simply push it aside until it manifested into nothing but bitterness and anger. “You weren’t here for most of my life, so you can’t come in here and tell me whatever bullshit you have to say. I don’t care.”

Patrick’s response to what he’d said to Libby only made Finley frown. As far as he was concerned, Finley didn’t butt into Patrick’s relationship, so Patrick should have stayed out of his. “That’s typical of you,” Finley said, crossing his arms so he wouldn’t do anything drastic. “Telling me what I can and can’t do when it’s none of your fucking business.” Shaking his head, Finley glanced to Libby for a moment. He didn’t care for what she had to say right now, as long as she stayed by his side. That, however, didn’t seem to be happening and his look quickly turned into a glare. She knew better than to take someone else’s side, especially if that someone else was Patrick. Whatever. He’d deal with her later. “Don’t go.” he said to her, voice stern but soft. Maybe it was the first time he’d ever actually spoken to her that softly in a while. That, however, meant nothing because of the underlying threat of his words. He watched her, eyes filled with nothing but anger as she left his side. For a moment, he felt a weakness he had had back when he’d been a different person, but that was wiped away when he turned back to Patrick, listening to what he had to say before Finley scoffed, shaking his head.

“Fuck you.” he said. “Don’t you compare me to him. I’m nothing like him. She should have taken my side, not yours.” Taking a deep breath, he’d turned to digging his fingernails into the palm of his hand. For some reason, he really didn’t want to hit Patrick but his older brother was making it hard not to fall into his typical aggression. It almost made Finley angry at himself for not being able to defend himself from something like this. Normally, he’d have taken care of whoever had tried to talk to him like that but now, he was merely shaking with unexpressed rage. “You sure as hell think you know everything. What she didn’t deserve, how I’m exactly like dad. I don’t need to tell you how you were never here to know anything to make those judgements. So don’t come in here on your fucking high horse thinking you can make those assumptions because you can’t and you won’t. I’m fucking sick of you.” Despite his words and previous actions, Finley brushed past Patrick and made his way upstairs. 

[patgrif]

Patrick still could not understand why Finley could not differentiate between him ‘fucking off the first chance he could’ and going to college to make a better life for himself and ultimately Finley too. How could Finley not realize that he didn’t leave because of him? That was the hardest part about leaving. He tormented himself over it all the time but he knew nothing would get better for either of them if he just stayed there and worked serving tables until Finley was old enough to leave himself. But he was getting real tired of hearing him call him out for it. He did however understand why it was so hard for Finley to handle being disciplined. He knew how it was with their parents, it had been the same way for him. They didn’t care. They didn’t lecture unless you did something that directly influenced them, like maybe if they’d eaten the leftovers from the night before that Dad wanted, or tried to speak up for their mom when he was close to making her black and blue all over. Patrick swallowed to himself when he heard his brother ask Libby not to go - hardly even ask really. He hoped she wouldn’t stay because that would just continue to build Finley’s ego and he needed to know that he didn’t get to control everything. He grew relieved when she finally did leave. Patrick crossed his arms over his chest as she took his stance, ready for the shit storm that his younger sibling was about to unleash. “Watch your mouth,” he snapped back after Finley cursed at him. He shouldn’t be able to get away with just saying that to him. He was going to make sure he didn’t.

He knew comparing him to their deceased father would get underneath of FInley’s skin, but he was only doing it because it was true. After growing up and witnessing the dysfunction of their parents marriage - if you’d even call it that - Patrick was still utterly amazed at how Finley could allow himself to ever treat anyone, woman or man the way their dad did. He should have been worshiping the ground that Libby walked on. He should have made it his mission to do the very opposite of everything he ever saw happen with his parents. Patrick never raised his voice with Melanie. He never snapped at her or demanding things from her, he never expected her to act as if she belonged to him. He treated her with respect and it blew his mind that Finley could even allow himself to act that way towards the girl he supposedly loved. It angered him the way it angered him to watch his mom get abused all of his life up until the point where she no longer became a mother and let what their father did to her take over and create a monster. “If you don’t want me to compare you to him then don’t act like him. Don’t be controlling, don’t be smart with her. You don’t talk to any woman like that, especially not one who has been so good to you throughout all of this.” He barked back. He’d noticed at the funeral how she spoke to family and friends for Finley on his behalf because he wanted nothing to do with it. “You don’t get to make decisions for her, and her leaving was the right thing to do. In fact she won’t be coming back for a while because as of now you can no longer have visitors through the rest of the week because I’m in charge here now. That’s that.” He barked loudly, his face growing red as his veins started to protrude.

He scoffed, getting angrier by the minute as Finley barked how sick he was of him and pushed past towards the stairs. “Well get used it because I’m not going anywhere!” He yelled up the stairs, gripping the rail as his brother fled the scene. “Jesus,” he groaned out angrily, throwing his hands to his head as he took a backwards step towards, breathing heavily as he dropped his hands and shook his head. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to control that.” He confessed, his heart rate going through the roof as he pointing a finger towards the stairs, looking at Melanie. He felt so guilty for making her witness that. For making her have to see him say those things. “This doesn’t seem like a phase. I don’t think I can do this.”

[melaniewillicms]

Melanie let out a soft sigh. She had expected Patrick and his brother to have some difficulties with each other but to out right say he hated Patrick? That just wasn’t right. They should have been banding together right now, not causing each other more problems. Melanie, although she would never tell anyone, felt particularly protective of Patrick and it was moments like these that it showed. She knew he could handle himself but that wouldn’t have stopped her from stepping in should she have to. If she had to give this kid a piece of her mind, than she would, though she highly doubted that Patrick would want that. She knew he would have seen her excuse as an excuse. She had just wanted to provide him with some comfort although, in hindsight, she should have let him explain the entire situation to her. Understanding it better now, she knew there had to be more to it than what Patrick was saying. How could Finley just hate him like that? She’d been told of what Patrick had done for him, being a role model and doing his best to provide Finley with footsteps to follow in. Melanie would have been more than grateful if her brother had done all of that while sacrificing his childhood and more to do the things Patrick had. It made her angry but right now wasn’t the time for her angry. She’d deal with that at a later date.

Melanie shook her head, an array of insults going through her mind as she listened to Patrick recount what had happened when she had been out. It did nothing to distil her anger. “People mourn in different ways.” She offered but knew that there was no way to excuse what had happened. “Look, he’s a teenager. He probably has no idea how to handle what’s going on right now. But, in saying that, he has no right to say he hates you. You’re doing and you have done so much for him.” she said. “It’s not your fault he’s being an ungrateful brat.” Melanie scoffed lightly at the mention of the funeral. It was the most ridiculous sentence she’d ever heard. Funerals weren’t for just one person and their opinion. “So what if that wasn’t what he wanted? The funeral wasn’t about him, the funeral was for your parents, and it was the chance to finally bury any and all feelings you have for them.” she explained. “You could just imagine what people would say if you didn’t have one.” She let her thumb brush against his cheekbone. There was nothing more she hated than seeing him frown. Patrick was a genuinely nice person and that was one of the many reasons why she fell for him. He was something the world lacked and she’d be damned if she let someone ruin him. He’d gone through so much and he was still a nice person, that it hurt to think that he was sad. “I love you,” she said. “I know you and I knew you’ll blame yourself for all of this but it’s not your fault. It couldn’t be your fault. You didn’t make your brother day those things, he said them and was idiot all on his own accord.” Melanie could see now why Patrick hadn’t taken her to meet his family. She had asked a handful of times if he was ever going to introduce her to his family but after finding out the truth, she understood why he had wanted to keep his distance. She would have understood if he wanted to keep his distance now too. The Griffin’s certainly weren’t a nice family. 

With his forehead against hers, Melanie shut her eyes for a few seconds, taking in the moment. “Don’t thank me.” she said. “I’m happy to be here for you.” She nodded in agreement to his suggestion and got up along with him but headed towards the top of the bed. He was right, she was tired and they both deserved some sleep after the long day they had had. Things would probably be different in the morning. She hoped that whatever had happened between Patrick and his brother had just been because of the highly emotional day - though she was beginning to doubt that now - and they would be able to fix things. As she undid the bed, Melanie glanced back at Patrick, frowning at what he said. Melanie had known the moment they had walked into the house that Patrick’s parents had been smokers. The house reeked and she was glad the smell was mostly gone. She had also assumed that growing up in a house filled with smoke would have put anyone off smoking, so hearing that was definitely a surprise. “That’s disgusting.” she said, shaking her head. “He should know better.” She slipped into the bed, pulling the covers up a little while she waited for him to return. It definitely felt weird being in this bed, seeing as she was so used to their usual one. She nodded slowly as he spoke. It could have been a fond memory if it weren’t plagued with so much negativity given the circumstances. What he was saying only made her more surprised. How someone could go from hating the smell of smoke to actively smoking made no sense to her. Of course, she understood the need for someone to help relax but it just seemed weird to her. She couldn’t help but smile a little when Patrick pulled her close and her body instantly relaxed against his. As cliché as it was, it felt like being home. That feeling was quickly diminished when he again and she placed her hand over his. “He’ll have to listen to you. He has no choice.” she said. “There would be so many legal repercussions if you just let him live here alone. He’ll just have to understand that you’re trying to help him.” Looking at him, Melanie wrapped her hand around his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’ll be okay. We’ll make it work, even if he makes it hard, we’ll make it work. I promise you we will.”

[patgrif]

If there was one thing Patrick knew it was that he could count on Melanie, whenever, for whatever. He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten so lucky. The fact that she’d ever given the cocky yet shy frat boy a second glance was still a mystery to him. She was without a doubt too good for him. Granted he wasn’t like his brother in the sense that he respected women and spoke properly to and in front of them, he was still him and she was she. The most beautiful girl he had ever laid eyes on in his life - and those firs few years of college he’d met quite the number of lady friends. But right from the beginning he knew there was something different about Melanie. She was kind and genuine and she made him want to be a better person and that’s what he strives to do for her each and every day because she deserved the world and he’d be damned if he didn’t give it to her. She was more than willing to drop everything and travel back to the town that he hated so much just to support him even though she knew nothing of his family - for good reason. He wished he could keep her from this forever. He hoped it wouldn’t be that way with his brother but he was certain the few days that they had been there Finley hadn’t breathed a single word to Melanie which made his blood boil. But he knew now he could only pick so many fights with Finley.

He sighed heavily, as Melanie’s body eased within his hold, feeling his own sense of relief just from her soft, petite frame being within his hold - right where she belonged. He shrugged as they spoke about Finley’s smoking habit. She was right, he should know better. But he didn’t and by the looks of it Patrick wasn’t going to be able to just make him stop no matter how badly he wanted to. He just didn’t want to see his younger brother filling the shoes of their deadbeat parents. Finley would kill him for even suggesting it but from what Patrick had seen he’d done everything possible to be like them while really trying to push them away. Unfortunately the habits his parents had weren’t just easy ones to quit so he worried for Finley’s sake. “I don’t know. He claims how incomparable he is with them and yet here is is doing everything they’ve always done. I just don’t understand how he can’t see that.” He’d find a way to help his brother, he just wasn’t sure how yet. He swallowed as Mel talked about how they’d figure something out. He knew she was just being encouraging and supportive but she didn’t know Finley like he did.. or at least know how Finley’s adaptation of their parents’ behavior would make things much more difficult than need be. “But would there be? He’s eighteen. And I know that he can’t be on his own and he can’t be in charge of this estate and everything else but legally, he’s an adult. I just.. I wish I could claim guardianship. That way I’d be able to have a say.” He sighed heavily while rubbing Melanie’s shoulder with his thumb subconsciously. “I don’t know. I can’t leave him and he won’t come with me and I really don’t like the options that that seems to leave me with.” He frowned to himself, glancing down at his girlfriend. He didn’t want to put this on her. Melanie deserved so much more than to have any ounce of Finley’s behavior thrown in her path. Snapping out of his thoughts, Patrick forced a smile in Mel’s direction, looking down at her before pressing a kiss to her forehead. “We can figure it out tomorrow. Let’s just get some rest. It’s been a long day.” He suggested before pulling his arm back and settling down into the bed, reaching over to turn off the light in his juvenile, blue room. He settled back after fluffing his pillow before turning his body to craddle around his girlfriend, this time snaking his arm over her and pulling her body into his. “I love you, Mel. I don’t know how I’d survive without you,” he whispered quietly in the dark. They’d gotten to that point long ago in their relationship where they didn’t have to have sex every single night - realistically that wasn’t how grown up life was. He swallowed softly as he shut his eyes and tried to fall asleep, but the future problems that he’d have to actually deal with in a mere few hours sat dormant in his mind.

[melaniewillicms]

This whole thing was an entire mess in Melanie’s eyes. She’d been dating Patrick for a while and had known him even longer than that and if there was anything she could say about his parents it would be that she felt nothing but contempt for them. She had been so angry when she found out about them and she was sure that if he hadn’t convinced her otherwise, she’d have gone back to his childhood home and yelled at them. That, however, didn’t stop her from feeling bad for Patrick when they found out they had died. At the end of the day, they had still been his parents and he was allowed to be upset about them no longer being here. She, herself, had never experienced the loss of a parent and had no idea what he was going through but she had decided - a long time ago actually - that she would stay by his side through thick and thin. That meant when he’d asked her to come back to his parent’s old house, she said nothing but yes. Melanie wasn’t going to let him go through this alone, even if he had his brother, he would need someone who wasn’t letting grief effect their thoughts and actions to help him deal with this and Melanie was more than ready to be that person.

Funerals were never fun and Melanie had helped Patrick through most of it, knowing the toll it would have on him. It didn’t help that his brother didn’t bother to help them which pissed her off. Why wouldn’t he help them? Weren’t they his parents too? She had tried not to be that bothered by it and besides, Patrick would probably talk to him about it anyway. She’d had some things she had to take care of once they’d finished, just a few things to do with the law firm she worked at, nothing too bad, before she was going to return. The truth was, Melanie was extremely worried about Patrick. Of course, she didn’t want to tell him that she was worried because then he would try to reassure her that everything was fine but Melanie knew him better than that. She could barely focus on what she was doing because her mind was preoccupied by him. She hoped everything would work out between him and his brother - she was sure he mentioned something about talking to him - but with them both grieving, it certainly wouldn’t go too pleasantly. In fact, she could tell something had gone on simply from the atmosphere in the house as she walked back in. When he greeted her, Melanie couldn’t help but frown. His demeanour didn’t match the emotions he was trying to trick her into thinking he felt right now. “Hi.” she replied, going over to him and putting her hand on his back. When he kissed her, she shut her eyes and her frown turned into a small smile for a moment. She always liked his kisses. Just as she was about to ask him if he was okay, he spoke first and she shook her head. “Patrick…” Stopping herself, Melanie thought about it for a second and decided that waiting would be a good idea. “Okay. Don’t take too long.” she said. Despite the fact that his smile reassured her some more, she wanted to tell him just to leave the dishes and they could go together but decided that if he needed some space for now, that she would give him that.

Smiling back at him, she left the room and made her way upstairs. She felt odd about being in this house, that probably had something to do with being in the place that now belonged to someone who was deceased but she brushed off the feeling as she entered his room. It was boyish and that made Melanie smile a little. It definitely belonged to her boyfriend, she could pick out minor things in the room that translated to his personality now. She wasn’t sure if she should have been relieved or saddened by the fact that it had remained the same for the entire ten years that he’d been gone. Normal parents would have changed something at some point. It was just yet another thing she knew she shouldn’t dwell on, so she tried not to. She picked up her things and went into the bathroom, ignoring the mess. She didn’t expect the house to be perfect, considering a teenager and two dead beats had lived in it. She just brushed whatever didn’t belong to her or Patrick to the side and set about getting ready for bed. Glancing over to him as he came into the room, she could tell that he was probably tired. If the day had worn her out, then she could barely begin to think about how it was effecting him. Leaving the bathroom and going into the bedroom, she began to smile at him but that look was quickly wiped from her face when she heard what he had to say. “What?” she asked, genuinely shocked. It wasn’t hard to not like Patrick, he was a nice guy and she didn’t have one complaint about him. “That’s ridiculous.” she said. Shaking her head, she took a seat next to him and took one of his hands in both of hers. “He’s probably acting like that because he’s grieving.” Melanie knew her words weren’t exactly true. She’d seen the way Finley had acted from afar and it wasn’t exactly the nicest but she didn’t want Patrick to feel bad because of it. “Don’t apologize. None of this is your fault.” She reached up and put her hand on his cheek, gently. “I’m staying by your side, okay? You need someone right now and I’m more than happy for you to lean on me for now.” She smiled softly, trying her best to cheer him up. “Besides, you’ve seen how crazy my family is, I can handle whatever happens here, okay?”

[patgrif]

There was nothing that calmed Patrick like the touch of his girlfriend’s hands if even in the slightest, most non-intimate way. However the anxiety coursing his veins due to whatever relationship he had left with his brother seemingly diminishing before his eyes was causing even her touch not to soothe his feelings. Of course he knew she would be supportive and try to feed him so excuse because it was late and because she knew him and knew he was hurting and the best thing for the time was an excuse, but what was he supposed to do when he knew far too well that the excuse was exactly that - an excuse. No, Finley truly hated Patrick. The younger brother had been anything but shy with letting Patrick know earlier that night. But it was all starting to make sense. From the moment he and Melanie had arrived he’d done nothing but give them the cold shoulder. At first he had chalked it up to the mourning, and that maybe his way of coping ws to just not be around the home in which he grew up with his parents in. He understood his brother was a teenager so he wasn’t all that surprised to assume that maybe he was out drinking or getting high because that was what kids his age did, especially when trying to cope with things such as loss because unfortunately, that was what society instilled as the answer. He’d been that age once before too. But there was a difference.

The difference was that Patrick started doing all of that in college. Their parents hadn’t gone to college, no, and they sure as hell hadn’t instilled the need or desire or encouragement for Pat to go when he graduated either. But that didn’t mean Pat didn’t have goals for himself. He wanted more than anything to go to college if even to just prove his deadbeat parents wrong for never believing he’d ever amount to anything. Why didn’t Finley want that too? Why would he let them dictate his success? Had Patrick not been enough of a role model for him? Sure he wasn’t home but Finley hated their parents too - why wouldn’t he be doing everything in his power to get away from them like Patrick had? Without looking to his side at Melanie, Patrick shrugged a bit. “It’s not ridiculous. He told me. He’s not mourning, he’s not grieving. He said it isn’t hard for him at all,” he shared, replaying the conversation that had occurred a mere few hours prior. “In fact, he’s pissed that we even had a funeral at all.” He shrugged, glancing to Melanie with a small frown and a heavy sigh. His eyes fell shut when he felt her soft, delicate hand press against his cheek. He knew he could rely on her and he knew that even had he begged her to stay back at home for the duration of all of this that she would have insisted on coming along anyway. She was his godsend and he wanted to ensure that she would always be. Patrick had had plans on proposing for weeks now. He’d asked her father’s permission, he had the ring picked out, and all he needed was the right moment to do it. The death of his parents seemed to derail his plans indefinitely.  He was able to breathe out a soft laugh at her comment. Her family was a little loud, sure, but at least they loved her. In the few short years that the pair had been together her parents had been more of parents than his had been in twenty-eight years. There was a reason why in the amount of time they had been a couple Patrick had never brought Melanie back home with him, or why she hadn’t ever met his parents or even Finn.

However the absence of communication with his brother never made a difference on how the older Griffin felt towards him. He didn’t speak of FInley often but when he did he only had the best of things to say about him. He still loved his brother and he didn’t need physical communication to make that true. Patrick tried again to muse a smile as he reached his free hand up and cupped her cheek, rubbing his thumb against the soft skin. “I don’t know how to even begin to thank you,” he admitted softly before leaning in and pressing his forehead to hers. After holding it there for a moment, Patrick pulled back and stood up. “Why don’t you get in bed. I know you’re tired,” he suggested, cocking his head towards the top of the bed from the foot he’d been situated at. “I’ll brush up and join you in a second, alright?” He smiled this time, leaning in again to press yet another kiss to her temple before he took her place in the bathroom as he assembled the toothpaste onto his toothbrush and began to brush. He kept the door open as he did so, glancing back into his room as Melanie undid the bed, leaning his back against the door. “He’s smoking too,” Patrick announced rather suddenly through his brushing. Pausing to spit in the sink, Patrick shrugged towards his girlfriend. “In the middle of talking he just pulled out a cigarette and lit it up and proceeded to smoke it in the house,” he finished, this time turning on the water and rinsing his brush and his mouth before splashing his face with cold water and drying it on the towel. He shut off the light and stepped out into the room, pulling the shirt over his head and folding it neatly before tossing it onto his desk chair and walking around to the other side of the bed. “When we were younger he would always complain about how bad the house always smelled because of our parents smoking. I purposely would take him outside and play soccer with him until it got dark out just by means of keeping him out of the nasty secondhand smoke,” he started, not really meaning for all of this to come out as he pulled the comforter down on his side and climbed into the bed, instinctively just wrapping his arm behind his girlfriend and pulling her into his side. “I couldn’t even get him to help load the dishwasher. How the hell am I supposed to break it to him that now I’ve got to find some sort of living arrangement for him? He can’t be here by himself.”

[patgrif]

There were no words to describe how confused Patrick felt after that encounter with his younger brother. Or at least the person he called a brother when apparently the name was one-sided in affection. All he had asked for was a simple hand in throwing away some trash and all hell broke loose. He had no idea that Finley had been harboring these feelings - although how would he have? He wasn’t around. Maybe Finley was right in all of it. Patrick had been more of a stranger than any type of family since the day he moved out ten years back. But just because his presence was gone and he hadn’t been as vocal with communication.. it meant nothing to him. He still loved Finley. He still had those memories from way back when and he still cherished those moments they shared together. At the end of the day he didn’t need to talk to Finley at all for him to have such an admiration and love for him because he was his brother and his blood and that actually meant something to the older Griffin. He hated hearing the words that left his brother’s mouth. Finley had him to count on, he did then and he did now. He wasn’t going to abandon the only family he had left especially in the wake of what was happening right then. Maybe it was all chalked up to Finley’s grieving style despite the younger brother adamantly insisting he wasn’t mourning at all.

Finley had left in such a hurried state that Patrick didn’t know how to stop him even if he wanted to - which he did. He wanted to sit down and air it all out because this was not the Finley that he’d grown up with and he knew that if that Finley could see who he’d become then he would be ashamed too. Feeling devastated and even emptier than he was already feeling due to the loss of his parents, Patrick continued to clean up the house after his had fled merely because there was nothing else to do. He was stuck with his thoughts if he chose to just sit down and cry about it, and someone had to clean the house and he would be damned if he threw any more of his family’s shit on his girlfriend. He took out the trash and started soaking some of the dishes they’d used to put out food for their guests, trying to do anything he could to kill time until his girlfriend returned. It felt like she’d gone out on her errand decades ago with all of the time Patrick had in silence while waiting on her return. Eventually when Melanie did return there was a large sigh of relief that escaped the man’s mouth. “Hey,” he greeted softly as he tried to turn the corners of his lips upward but barely succeeded. She approached and Patrick shook his hands of the suds from the sink before leaning over and pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “Why don’t you head on upstairs, get yourself ready for bed?” He suggested, cocking his head towards the stairs. She’d done enough for him already that day and every other. “I’ll just finish up these dishes and be right up,” he promised, this time the smile actually coming through slightly clearer because he knew if it didn’t she’d be concerned and adamant on not leaving him.

It didn’t take Patrick long for him to finish with the few plates he had soaking in the sink. After drying his hands on a dish towel, Pat flicked off the kitchen lights but only after staring towards the door just as if looking at it would bring his little brother home. It didn’t. Sighing to himself, Patrick shook his head lightly before turning and finally ascending the stairs. Upon reaching the top of the stairs Patrick rubbed his hands together as he glanced towards his parents’ old room. In the next few days he’d get around to cleaning it out and deciding where to sort out their belongings. He had hopes that his brother might help with it, just in case there were things he wanted to keep but he was no longer sensing that that would happen. For the mean time, Patrick and Melanie were sleeping in the room he’d left behind ten years ago, clad in all of his sports posters and trophies and boyish blue bedding. He entered the room with a soft sigh as he glanced at his girlfriend who was finishing up in the joint bathroom that his room shared with his brother’s. He was more than embarrassed to see the condition it had been kept in when the pair arrived. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Patrick folded his hands out before reaching them back onto the back of his neck, stretching. “So uh, Finn hates me,” he stated before looking over towards his girlfriend. “I’m so sorry you ever had to get dragged into coming with me. You know you don’t have to stay,” he offered. While Patrick was ever so thankful that his girlfriend was his support system and was here with him, he felt bad enough taking her away from home just so she could be subjected to his younger brother’s verbal abuse.

[finleygriffin]

Curling his hands into fists, Finley stuffed them into the pockets of his leather jacket as he looked at Patrick with a frown. His nerves were only becoming more and more frayed, and he’d lost his only solace by putting out the cigarette. Of course he was just going to light it up again as soon as he got out of the house, no matter what Patrick thought about him doing it inside. He hated that Patrick was judging him for something like this, he had his own life now and Patrick had no right to come here and try to change one of the only permanent things in his life. And maybe their parents had smoked but Finley certainly didn’t think he was anything like them just because he smoked too. A lot of people smoked, not just their parents, therefore his bad habit of smoking had nothing to do with their parents. Finley didn’t need Patrick insinuating that it did. Rolling his eyes, Finley grumbled something akin to whatever under his breath. Having been so used being able to do whatever he wanted without having someone around to police his actions, Finley didn’t take too kindly to having Patrick try to control him like this.

School was another thing Finley didn’t want Patrick getting into. He didn’t care about his education, so what if he didn’t go as far as Patrick had in life. College had been his goal, not Finley’s. There may have been a time when Finley had the same goal, some small part of him had still wanted to be like his big brother, that wanted to follow in his footsteps and become something more than the delinquent kid he was now but all of that hope had been dashed when he’d become consumed by his anger. Besides, there wasn’t much he hoped for now anyway. The future wasn’t something he looked forward to. In fact, Finley merely lived from day to day, taking each moment as it came. The future was bleak for him and right now, Finley didn’t see anyway to make it brighter for himself. He’d given up with optimism a long time ago, when it had become clear that disappointment surrounded his life. From his grades to his own god damn family, disappointment was one of the reasons why Finley had become so hardened towards the world, why he’d formed a protective brick - or maybe it was metal - wall around himself. Why should he be optimistic and look forward to the future when he had more proof than he needed that things didn’t work out the way he wanted? Nothing Patrick could do or say would ever change his mind, it’d been set now and it was more than obvious that Finley was stubborn and not one to easily give into something. There was nothing that could change his mind nowadays.

Finley took half a step back as Patrick hit the table. It wasn’t out of fear but shock at the familiarity of his action, Finley could recall a few times in the past month alone where he had done something similar to it, though his main target was usually walls. He glanced down to Patrick’s fist before returning his gaze upwards. Shaking his head repeatedly, Finley felt his anger grow tenfold the more Patrick spoke. “You did just leave me!” he yelled. “You didn’t fucking say goodbye to me! I had to come home to find you gone! Do you know how hard that is for an eight year old to understand? I was eight, Patrick!” He stopped, taking in a shaky breath, when his voice cracked. He hated showing any shred of weakness and knowing that Patrick was finding a way under his skin like this only made him more pissed. He would put a stop to that, however, he wouldn’t let Patrick get to him. “What made you think leaving would help us? You went off and you became whatever you are and now you’re here telling me that you left to make things better? Look at us, nothing is better.” Finley drew in a deep breath before he glanced towards the door. Walking out never seemed so enticing than it did right now. “You’re right. You did let me down. You were the one person I counted on not to let me down and you did. So yeah, I do get to decide that we aren’t brothers and I don’t care what you think. As far as I’m concerned, you are not my brother.” Again, Finley shook his head a few times, not wanting to listen to what Patrick had to say, what excuse he was making up now. As soon as he heard Patrick mention loving him, he sighed, his shoulders slumping. “It felt personal. You never explained it to me. You rarely called. How am I not supposed to think it wasn’t personal?” He asked. “Whatever this is, it isn’t love. That part of me died when you left and I don’t care about how you feel towards me because there’s nothing I feel for you but hate.” Finley scoffed, looking away for a moment before he looked at him again. “I’m not staying. I’m not going to sit here with you and try to fix things because I don’t want to fix things. You’re ten years too late to fix things. So, I’m going and don’t bother trying to stop me because it’ll only make me hate you more.”

[patgrif]

Never had Patrick ever imagined his leaving his brother in the care of their parents would have resulted in such resentment and hatred. He listened, devastated as his brother lectured him. He’d screamed back with such volume and passion that Patrick knew where he was coming from was more than just something that had built up in the past few days since their parents had passed. It caused the adult to swallow and take a small, subconscious step backwards. Yelling about the age Finley was when Patrick headed off left a pit of guilt rumbling within his gut as he looked down towards his feet, embarrassed by his actions as he recalled them with each word his younger brother screamed out. He’d intended to say goodbye.. he thought that he had, in his own way. The night before when saying goodnight he remembered vividly. He told Finley about how he was going to be leaving for school the next day, he explained why he couldn’t sleep at home because it was too far for him to go to school where he went and live at home. He remembered walking out of the room and telling his brother he’d see him soon before shutting off the light. He remembered because he also knew how if he’d waited until Finley got home the following day their departure would have been even harder for the young boy, Patrick being able to predict the crying that would have occurred and the pleading that Finley would have done to try and make him stay. He’d left that way for Finley’s own good. At least he felt that had been the case back at eighteen years of age. As Patrick opened his mouth to interject he found that he was speechless, and even if he wanted to get out a word Finley wouldn’t have let him.

But Finley was right. Patrick left and nothing was better. Not for Finley, anyway. He’d left and made a better life for himself far from everything he knew before he left home. He’d had the purest of intentions but he’d failed. He felt selfish and disgusting and disappointed with himself, hardly able to even look up as his brother spoke in his direction. It felt like there was a stabbing sensation in his gut every time Finley mentioned how Patrick had let him down, the same feeling when he reiterated how he decided that they were not brothers - not anymore.  For a moment it felt as if Finley was letting up as he heard his brother sigh, causing him to look back his way to see he disappointment and hurt that he read all over his face. He hadn’t meant for it to feel personal. He hadn’t meant for it to be a thing at all. Finley didn’t get that it was hard for him. Staying home would have meant sacrificing his own future. Maybe that’s what he should have done, he didn’t really know at that point, but he wanted the feeling he was experience to leave and never return again. “I’m sorry -” he offered meekly, with a small shrug. “I should have called more. I should have done more.” He let out softly, his entire body just growing number with every word Finley spoke. Not only did he not love Patrick, but he hated him.  “You don’t mean that,” he spoke aloud, quietly and more to himself however. By this point Patrick was truly at a loss for words. A part of him wanted to keep screaming and fighting and defending himself, but the other half of him wanted nothing more than for Finley to just go and do whatever it was he needed to do to be happy while he sat upstairs and laid emotionless in his childhood bed while memories of the past consumed him. Patrick merely shrugged as Finley threatened him to stop talking. “I - I guess you’re going then.” He stated almost as a question as he stared into his brother’s angry, tired eyes. What else was there to say? He’d already been reminded that he was ten years late to mend things between the brothers, and it seemed as if no matter what he said Finley was going to do what he wanted anyway. So he just didn’t. He just didn’t say anything else. Why push him even further away when he was far enough? Rather than responding farther and trying to argue back like he wanted to, like he wanted to prove to Finley that they were brothers and they both loved each other no matter what the younger one may have thought, he just let him go. Patrick knew better than to pick a fight he couldn’t win. He wanted to add a ‘be safe’ before he let his brother get out of his sight but even that would somehow get twisted and thrown back at him, and chances were whatever Finley was doing wasn’t going to be very safe anyway.  So he just stared and waited for him to go.

[finleygriffin]

Finley stared at him, remaining as silent as he could. He was waiting for him to fight back, to give him something to feed off of. This was just the start of it when it came to his resentment, he was a bitter kid who had been lead to believe whoever hurt him deserved it back, they deserved to hurt twice as much as he did. But there was still that small part of him telling him not to fight with Patrick, at least, not physically since they were supposed to stick together right now. Finley had wanted to do that but as soon as Patrick had come back and started planning a funeral, he couldn’t. He still believed and would always believe that his parents didn’t deserve a funeral, no matter how bad that would have made them look as not only people but as sons. He didn’t care what reason there was for it and he wouldn’t listen to it. Patrick could explain to him why it had to be done until there was nothing left to be explained and he would still refuse to accept it. As far as he was concerned, his parents didn’t deserve a funeral and he didn’t care how bad that made him look as a person. 

Ignoring the way his hands shook out of anger - and the need to hit something - Finley listened to Patrick speak with his eyes narrowed, he was still angry that Patrick had compared him to their parents, it’d happened at school a few times before and he’d always been sent home with busted knuckles and a few bruises - not that his parents had cared - but right now he was trying his best not to fight his brother. He was attempting to apologize for it, even though Finley refused to accept the apology; he’d have to do a lot more than say a few simple words. Still angry, Finley took another long drag of his cigarette to try and calm his frayed nerves but he stopped when he heard Patrick ask that he not do it in the house. He didn’t see why he cared, the house always reeked of smoke anyway, was one more person smoking in it really going to be that much trouble? Thinking about it for a moment, Finley decided that if he stopped it, Patrick would allow him to leave quicker and there was nothing more he wanted to do right now than leave and get wasted with his friends. “Fine.” he muttered. Licking the tip of his finger, he stubbed the tip of the cigarette out, shoving it back into the packet before he stuffed it back into his pocket. “There? Happy?” As far as he was concerned, Patrick could think he’d done it as a nice gesture to break down the animosity between them but, like everything, Finley had done it for himself. There wasn’t anything he would ever consider doing for his brother. The day he’d come home from school to find him gone still haunted him, it was something that had dug deep down within him, down to his roots, and changed him. He’d blamed himself for a long time, he wondered what he’d done wrong for a long time before he realised Patrick had left for the sake of leaving and it wasn’t his fault. It was at that point his sadness turned to anger and ever since then, it’d become who he was. 

Finley rolled his eyes when he heard Patrick keep going on about school. Why didn’t he just get that he wasn’t going? As he droned on and on about school and college applications, Finley let out a small groan. He was beginning to sound like all of the teachers that repeated the same thing over and over to him, just because they had a different relationship didn’t mean he was about to change his mind. “If you want me to go to school tomorrow, I will but that doesn’t mean I’m still not going out tonight. So, you’d essentially be sending me to school with a hangover and that doesn’t sound like something a good big brother would do.” Everything he said was perfectly thought out so that he could hurt him in a small way, it wouldn’t make up for the hurt he’d felt but right now, it was good enough for him. “Colleges won’t accept me. Community college won’t accept me. But that’s for those dicks up at my school to worry about, not you. You weren’t here when I was getting bad grades and sent home every other week, you weren’t here to answer when they called home, so I need you to back off, okay? I don’t care if it’s the law, I’ll do what I want, like I always have.” Lifting his head, Finley set his jaw, watching as Patrick reacted to what he’d said. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it - maybe a small bit of pride because he knew he’d struck a nerve, he’d hit something that he knew would hurt Patrick more than any insult could. “Don’t say what? That we’re not a family?” Finley asked, shaking his head. “But we’re not. We were before you left, before you choose to fuck it all up.” Finley scoffed at him, a small smile playing at his lips. “You think I’m upset with you? Upset doesn’t begin to cover what I feel towards you.” Hearing the words I need you made Finley take a deep breath and he shook his head. “No, I needed you, for a long time and you weren’t there for me. So, no, you don’t get to need me right now, you don’t get that. And I’m not going to sit here and pretend everything is okay just because you want it to be.” Moving from the stairs, Finley headed towards the door before turning back to face Patrick. “Don’t stand there and pretend that ten minutes of brotherly bonding is going to fix everything because it’s not. You can’t fix this, not when I don’t want to be your brother.”

[patgrif]

He was being impossible. Every single thing that Finley did or alluded to was utterly impossible. No matter what insults he was throwing in Patrick’s direction, Patrick tried his hardest not to take personally as he figured they were all just his brother’s way of channeling his grief and all of the other emotions that came with it. The younger Griffin finally muttered out in compliance as he put out the cigarette and stashed the rest away for later, Patrick grimacing as he watched his brother handle it with such ease. He’d never been a smoker and never really understood the appeal. He’d smoked maybe one or two in his experimental teen years, and maybe another one or two when really drunk at some college party that he wouldn’t be able to recall the morning after, but other than that Patrick hated everything about cigarettes. The fact that his parents did it so disgustingly much was more than enough reason to keep him far from the habit, wanting to do everything in his power to be as different from them as possible. As far as he knew Finley felt the same way, so why let their bad habits become his own? Sighing as he shook his head ever so slightly, Patrick muttered out ‘oh yeah, ecstatic.’ in response to Finley’s own grumbles, but his town almost insinuating the question ‘now was that really so hard?’.

But just as Patrick thought maybe the brothers were making progress Finley opened his mouth and ruined that train of thought. His words cut sharp like the knife. Finley sounded as if he had absolutely zero care for consequences of his actions. Patrick swallowed sharply as his brother spoke about him not being a good brother by sending him to school. Finley knew exactly what he was doing and Patrick knew it as well. He’d made it plenty clear to the eldest child just how bad of a big brother Patrick had been, but it almost seemed as if Finley were actually enjoying reminding him. Sensations of overwhelming guilt started to run through out Patrick’s veins as Finley’s voice leveled up in anger. He listened as his brother talked about school and how there was never going to be any future higher education, of any level or degree. How badly did Finley have to behave to get himself on such a track that not even community colleges would admit him. Patrick remembered well enough that even as a child Finley had been a bright kid, and if he had any of Patrick’s business brains then he had to be smarter than he let on. But it pained him to hear Finley just talk about throwing away college as if it made no difference to him. Going to college was everything for Patrick. It was his was of escaping their suffocating home, it was a way for him to start a future for himself, and it was a way for him to prove everyone who thought he’d turn out just like his parents wrong. If Finley could just understand that he could have that too then maybe Patrick would convince him not to give up, but it was more than just getting passing grades. What was he getting sent home for all the time. But it  was a certain string of words that finally caused Patrick to snap.

“But we’re not. We were before you left, before you choose to fuck it all up.” Upon hearing those words Patrick tuned the rest of his brother’s aggressive words out as he let the phrase run through his head probably a million miles per hour. That was not the case. That was never the case. He’d never just choose to leave.. it wasn’t like that. Just tuning back in to catch the last words about how Finley didn’t want to be his brother, Patrick balled up his hand into a tight fist as he forcefully slammed it against the table that he’d previously been clearing off. “I didn’t just leave you, Finley!” He started, exclaiming loudly and assertively. “I left so I could make things better for us. I left because if I didn’t then nothing would have changed for either of us and I would have been stuck here just setting a bad example of what not to let yourself become.” He yelled as his body turned in the direction that Finley had moved towards the door. “I know things didn’t happen as planned and I let you down because I never came back and I’m sorry and I can admit that I was wrong, but you don’t get to decide that we aren’t brothers.” He warned, almost threateningly. “And maybe you just don’t get it because you don’t have anyone else that you have to worry about disappointing when making big life decisions unlike myself who had the weight of the world on my shoulders. Leave here and leave you alone with absentee parents oo go and show you that there’s more beyond the scope of our fucked up, drug den of a house.” Patrick groaned loudly as he ran both of his hands through his hair, grabbing tightly onto his scalp before throwing off his hands. “Don’t you get it was never personal? I had to go, and if I hadn’t then you would have grown to hate yourself for making me stay. But none of any of that means that I love you any less than I did the last time I saw you.” He spoke with each sentence growing calmer as he finally finished and took a deep breath and a step closer towards his brother. “Can we just please calm down and talk about this? I won’t make you go to school tomorrow if you don’t want but don’t go right now in the middle of this. Please, don’t you even want to try?”

[finleygriffin]

Finley scoffed. It all just sounded like excuses to him. He was unbelievably angry at a simple statement. He didn’t care about proper conduct, he didn’t care what had to be done at times like this. Hearing Patrick attempt to explain what had happened today only made him frown. Hell, he didn’t want to listen to it, he was running late to go meet his friends, people he would have rather been with right now than arguing with his brother. “It was your idea,” he said. “It was your idea when you decided to have a funeral, which I was also against but who cares about what I think.” He shook his head, clenching his jaw. There was a small, logical, part of him telling him to maybe step back, to let things cool down but now that it had started, Finley wasn’t ready to stop, he wasn’t ready to stop until he got the last word in and left. “Everyone knew Mom and Dad deserved less than a funeral and you wasted your time and energy on them like an idiot would.” He shook his head. “They didn’t give a shit about us, they didn’t even bat an eyelid when you left and I can’t believe you would give them the time of day.” He couldn’t wait to hear the bullshit response Patrick would give him to that. No matter what he said, Finley was ready to hit back twice as harshly. And that was just the way he fought, anyone who had argued with him could vouch for it; Finley wasn’t afraid to get nasty.

A laugh escaped his lips when he heard Patrick berate him for smoking - and insulting his girlfriend but he really didn’t care about that part. He almost considered leaving the room and returning when he didn’t find it so funny that Patrick thought he could just walk in here and parent him. “Oh my god, you’re something.” he said, shaking his head. “I’ve been doing this -” he took another drag of the cigarette, to emphasize his point “- since I was sixteen. You weren’t here to see it start and you sure as hell aren’t going to tell me to stop now that you are. You aren’t Dad but hey, you sure as hell can let me down like he did.” Patrick’s following statement made something snap within Finley; he hated being compared to his parents. He was nothing like them and people telling him that was never a good thing. His usual reaction was to lash out, to physically hurt whoever had said it to him out of fear - something he refused to acknowledge - but he stayed still, curling his hand into a fist out of instinct. He wouldn’t hit Patrick, not right now anyway. “Don’t you - Don’t you fucking compare me to them! I’m not them and I will never  be them!” He had to fight to keep himself from yelling. “You don’t even know me, you can’t say that shit to me.”

Rolling his eyes, Finley glanced to the door and wondered how easy it would be just to turn around and walk out. He was so used to being ignored as he left at any time of the day, that it was just a natural instinct to leave without thinking what someone else would say. “Don’t parent me. I’m not going to school. I’ll make Libby pick up any work I need to do, if she isn’t too stupid to lose it or something.” He muttered the last part, shaking his head. “I barely go to school as it is and you can’t force me to go.” Finley laughed again. “This isn’t a family. This is two people who barely know each other plus your girlfriend. That’s not a family.” Looking down, he shrugged. “I don’t even know what a family is.” Slowly lifting his head, Finley narrowed his eyes at Patrick. He set his jaw, not knowing what to say. Part of him wanted to cave into the grief he was currently feeling but he relied on his anger not to seem weak, he relied on it to stop himself from feeling sad. Hell, he relied on it to stop feeling altogether. “It’s not hard for me.” he bit out. “Something like this could never be hard for me. You don’t know me, stop trying to dictate how I feel.” 

[patgrif]

The way Finley fought Patrick on everything, especially the funeral, was something that he had not foreseen coming. He was in disbelief. Yes, he understood that as parents, their parents sucked. But that didn’t mean that they didn’t deserve the proper funeral proceedings. He thought that went without need for discussion, because at the end of the day, no matter how much they may have hated them, they were their parents and their flesh and blood. They’d both survived, hadn’t they? So they must have cared enough, and for Patrick to even think about defending any of the actions that their parents took, he must have really been conflicted with his brother’s words. Maybe Finley resented them and he didn’t blame him for that because Patrick did too, but they were a huge part of his life for better or worse. He had to have cared at least a little. He swallowed harshly as his brother called him an idiot because now he was second guessing himself. Should he not have planned a funeral? But wouldn’t that have just looked worse? No, a funeral was the right call. It was closure for him, maybe Finley was just too young to understand.

What he was having a hard time comprehending was just how much his brother seemed to resent him for leaving years ago. He knew it had been hard on the boy at just eight years of age, but he’d never imagined it would have left this much of an impact. It wasn’t as if Patrick had just decided to run away randomly and never come back. No, he did what everyone else in his group of friends was doing and went to college. That was what was expected of him. Maybe it was an easy out for him at home, but at least he was doing it with good intentions of making a better life for himself compared to what one without college, just staying at home with his parents would have given him. Had Patrick just stayed in town then he wouldn’t have been able to do anything else to support his little brother. But with all of Finley’s talk about school it made him wonder if that was his little brother’s plan. Was Finley just planning on not going to college? Patrick understood maybe needing to take some time but with all the apathy he was receiving from Finley he could easily sense that with his brother he just really did not care. He swallowed again as he continued to think. Perhaps his leaving really did fuck with him. He hated hearing his brother tell him about how he let him down because Patrick knew enough. He’d already experienced the guilt, he already knew that mailing his brother a check on his birthday every year wasn’t a relationship but it didn’t mean he cared any less for him - the timing just hadn’t been right but now they had an opportunity to fix things and here Finley was just yelling at him. It wasn’t until Finley snapped so viciously about being compared to their parents and gritting the words ‘you don’t even know me’ out to Patrick that Pat finally looked downwards to the wooden floor. He was right. He didn’t know his own brother and it was his fault entirely. He’d thought leaving ten years ago was best for both of them in the long run, and he thought that his going off and doing something with his life would be admirable to the younger Griffin at the time and throughout the years. But he was only eighteen at the time and didn’t understand the weight of what his leaving would truly do to his kid brother. He understood now.

Holding up his hand, Patrick began to try to ease the tension that had built in the room. “I’m sorry - I didn’t mean to compare you to them.” He tried gently, as if needing to talk Finley off the edge. “It’s just they smoked and I just hoped you hadn’t picked up the habit, alright? That’s all I meant by that.” He looked to the cigarette in his brother’s hand and just shook his head lightly. “Could you please not smoke in the house? If you have to do it at all.” He knew that even that was probably asking too much of this new version of his brother but it was worth a shot. Sighing heavily, Patrick ran his hand through his hair before placing it on his hip to match his other hand. “Finley, you have to go to school. I won’t tell you to pay attention, but you have to go. I’m not trying to parent you - it’s the law. What about college? Your applications are going to be due soon. You need to actually be there for the schools to even consider accepting you,” he spoke, trying his best not to lecture his brother  even though he knew that’s what it would come off as. His brows furrowed again as he listened to his brother mutter off some insult towards his girlfriend. Maybe he had reason to be made at Patrick, but Patrick could hardly believe that he treated his girlfriend the same way. But his brother’s last words were what really cut him the deepest. When Finley claimed that what he and Patrick were was not family, Patrick swallowed harshly as he looked to his brother with sad eyes. He didn’t know what he was feeling more of anymore - frustration, guilt, or hurt. “Don’t say that,” he started, shaking his head. “I mean I’m clearly not going to be able to convince you otherwise but don’t tell me we aren’t family.” Patrick glanced around quickly noticing the walls were only covered in photos that took place over ten years ago when Patrick was actually around, and the lack of photos of Finley growing up. “I get that you’re upset with me - you have every reason to be. But I need you right now. I want to work on this because right now you’re the only family I have left.” He tried to reason with his brother. Deep down he knew that his kid brother was still somewhere in the mess of anger that stood on the stairs. “Just - help me clean up for ten minutes, that’s all I want. And then you can go and I won’t ask any questions, okay?” Finley had to reason with that, it was a good deal, a win-win Patrick assumed.

[finleygriffin]

Most people had assumed Finley would have grown out of his anger as he got older but he’d only gotten better at masking it. For a time, when he’d first started high school, he’d forgotten all about his negative feelings but then they hit him like a truck and he’d never been the same again. Of course, that wasn’t his fault. People had treated him badly his entire life, they’d left him and he was in no way responsible for what they’d allow him to become. His anger was justified and so what if he got into a lot of trouble because of it? He always found a way out of it and he’d continue to do that until someone finally apologized for ruining his life. Now, however, there was only one person who could do that and Finley had decided he wasn’t going to give Patrick the chance for forgiveness. He shouldn’t have left, it was as simple as that, and if he wanted to make all of this better then he was going to have one hell of a time trying to not be a victim of Finley’s anger. Forgiveness from Finley didn’t come easy, in fact, he’d never forgiven anyone for anything. He was just that stubborn. 

Finding out Patrick was coming home had been terrible, Finley had shook for hours afterwards and he’d only been able to resolve that with a quick smoke and a beer. Hell, he’d even yelled at his girlfriend because she’d gotten far too overbearing. It was clear it was effecting him, she was just too dumb to notice it. The empty promise of a call had been the one thing that had kept Finley happy during the first few weeks and sure, he did call a few times but then those calls became more scarce and it took not getting a call on particular week for Finley to realise that that was it. His brother was gone. He could have put in some effort of his own and tried to bridge the gap between them but if Patrick hadn’t made the effort to stay, then why should he had made the effort to try and fix things between them? Clearly he was the only victim in all of this. It’d completely changed his outlook on Patrick, he went from being his role model, the one person he could count on to show him how to handle life, unlike their parents, to being someone Finley hated just as much as his parents. Teachers noticed, hell everyone noticed, a change in him. He’d gone from being a mild mannered boy who never so much as spoke out to being a reckless teen who would skip for days at a time and never do his homework. There had been plenty of times they’d threatened to kick him out of school but their empty threats didn’t bother him, it was just another meaningless thing he would lose. 

Seeing the way Patrick looked at him, Finley had to fight a smirk. It was always nice to see people react to his attitude. What had Patrick expected? He was going to be the same person he’d been when he was eight? That was ten years ago. “No, I can’t.” he said. “You can, it was your idea to have this stupid thing so therefore, it’s your responsibility to clean up.” He then laughed to himself, finally smirking. “Or, y’know, that is if you can handle responsibility without running out, cause we both know you’re good at that.” His smirk quickly turned into a frown when he heard Patrick mention the time and school all within the same breath. Was that really what was important to him? Finley couldn’t care less, he’d already skipped school twice this week and one more day wouldn’t kill him. As Patrick continued to speak, Finley rolled his eyes and got out his packet of cigarettes, pulling one out and sticking it between his lips. He was going to need one if this conversation was going to continue. “Why don’t you just get your girlfriend to help you to clean up? She seems to be more important to you than -” he stopped there, deciding that the rest could go left unsaid. Patrick would know what he meant. He flicked some of the ash from his cigarette onto the floor, not really caring about where it landed. “I’m not going to school tomorrow.” he said. “I’m going to my friend’s place, he offered some kind of refuge from this place and I’d be stupid not to take it.” He stared hard at Patrick for a few moments before he shook his head. “Stop pretending that you care because it’d be easier for both of us if you stopped this stupid act you have going on.”

[patgrif]

There was so much anger radiating off of his little brother that Patrick was almost near a loss for words. He could hardly believe that his brother was actually talking to him this way. Sure, he knew there had grown some distance between the two in the past ten years but they were together again because their parents had just died tragically. No matter how awful they had been to the two, Patrick was the only other person in the world that was able to understand the grief Finley had to be feeling. He understood feeling conflicted about whether or not to be upset with the death in the first place. After all, it was hard to mourn parents that you never really had. But he also understood the guilt that would quickly flood his stomach the second he decided that he didn’t care they were dead, forcing him to retract his former statement. “It was my idea? No Finley, our parents died and having a reception after the funeral is something that people do. I didn’t just wake up and think ‘oh, let’s have a bunch of strangers over so they can pretend they thought nice things about Mom and Dad.’ Patrick spouted off, not even knowing where the sudden frustration had appeared from. He wanted to question where all of his hatred was coming from but Finley made it plenty clear when he brought his leaving years ago. There was so much he wanted to say. He wanted to defend himself. What was he supposed to do - not go to college? Then what would have happened? He could have done anything to file for custody of his little brother but he was just eighteen. He was able to be a big brother at the time, but he wasn’t ready to be a parent.

Patrick sighed heavily as he let his head fall slightly back, shutting them for the duration of the sigh before shaking his head and looking at his brother, but before Patrick could even respond, he noticed the small red ring light up from within Finley’s mouth. His brows knit in confusion as he stared intently at what seemed to very obviously be a cigarette, but he while he did so he continued to listen to his little brother’s tantrum. Ripping his eyes from the tobacco stick in his younger brother’s brother to his eyes, Patrick let the garbage bag full of trash drop to the floor, a few plates near the top sliding out as he lifted his pointer finger towards his brother, giving him a stern look. “First off, leave Melanie out of this. She has been nothing but kind to you since we got here. Secondly, what the hell are you doing? You don’t smoke inside the house. Hell, you don’t smoke at all. Since when do you that?” He shrugged up his shoulders, dropping his hands to his side as he shook his head in disgust. “You’re too young to be taking after them,” he spoke sternly, referring to their parents who partook in any behavior or activity that could be remotely threatening. He knew his brother was eighteen which meant he could legally purchase cigarettes, but he couldn’t understand why he would want to. If he could survive their parents without picking up the bad habit then why couldn’t Finn?

Patrick scoffed out an amused chuckle as his brother talked. “Yes, you are going to school tomorrow. I’m not going to let you just follow in their footsteps,” once again referring to their parents, “you’re staying here tonight to be with your family and you’re going to school in the morning.” Patrick affirmed with a light shrug. “Look man, I don’t want to fight you. I get this isn’t easy but acting like this isn’t going to make it any less real,” Patrick spoke out in a softer tone. He was afraid that maybe this wasn’t just how Finley was in this time of peril but that maybe in the past ten years Finley had genuinely grown up to be this person. He’d never really thought about it before but maybe the only reason Patrick didn’t despite his parents being who they were was that he had to assume responsibility for the other son that they didn’t want to assume. “It’s hard for me too,” he finish softly, hoping that Finn would be the same.

[finleygriffin]

The empty feeling of returning to a silent home had been something that had haunted Finley for years. There was a moment, in his short life, that he assumed would be the first and last time he would walk into a building and experience a heart stopping emptiness. Granted, he’d been younger when the first time happened but was it really that naive of him to assume that he’d never experience it again? “Your parents have been in an accident,” he remembered a cop saying. “They didn’t make it.” He hadn’t cried. In fact, he’d barely felt anything when he’d been given the news. He’d remembered sitting in their messy living room, his facial expression blank. They’d asked him if he needed anything, he’d told them he would be fine on his own. He’d handle being alone for most of his life. This was nothing new. But then they’d broken the news, they’d told him his brother had found out, he’d been placed in his brother’s care because he was too young to handle living on his own, to be able to take care of himself. It was all bullshit to Finley. Who were they to tell him he couldn’t be alone? Technically, he wasn’t even alone. He had Libby, she was always by his side no matter what. He wasn’t alone.

But then, as soon as he’d heard Patrick’s name be mentioned, his heart did something funny. Was he actually feeling some type of positive emotion towards the person who had abandoned him? Finley refused to feel anything but contempt towards his brother. He’d left. He’d made his choice and it was unfair to return now, ten years later, with the promise that he’d stick around. It made Finley feel nauseous, it angered him. He didn’t care about his brother any more, how could he? More fuel was only added to the fire when he did see his brother for the first time - it’d only been from across a room, he hadn’t stopped to speak to him - he had some girl with him. He’d left only to return with a girlfriend, a stranger he was trying to integrate into their family and Finley hated it. Though that wasn’t hard, Finley hated everything with exception of alcohol, cigarettes and his girl. It just so happened that Patrick fell into the number one spot for his hatred.

The funeral had made him feel sick. He hated that there was an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach, the space reserved for the grief he was slowly starting to feel. He didn’t want to grieve the people who had ruined his life, who had pushed the one person he needed away. It wasn’t fair. Sure, they may have been his parents but they hadn’t acted like it. He couldn’t pick out a time when they acted like parents. He also hated how people had stood around, making everyone look like a pack of crows, and cried over two deadbeats. It made him nauseous to the point where he had to escape to his room midway through the reception. There was only so many sympathetic looks and “sorry for you loss”s that he could take in one night. He could still hear everyone, milling around and acting as if his parents hadn’t been the worst people on the planet. It was stupid and horrible and Finley was more than ready to leave. He waited, however, until everyone had left before he tore off his suit and changed into his usual attire. His friends had offered him their company - and liquor to fog his mind - and he wasn’t going to give up on such an opportunity. Stuffing his phone and almost empty cigarette packet in his pocket, he made his way downstairs, only to hesitate when he saw Patrick clearing up. He was about to skip out, to run out of the house without a word when he heard Patrick speak to him. This would be the first time they’d properly spoken to each other in a while and part of him wanted to put his anger to the side for one night but it was too strong. “What?” he snapped, offended that he’d been asked to do something remotely helpful. He scoffed and crossed his arms, sneering. “Do it yourself. I’m not your fucking errand boy.”

[patgrif]

Patrick understood fully why his brother might resent him in the way that he resented his parents. Just like his parents had been basically absent for his childhood, Patrick had been an absent brother for Finley’s. Despite how together Patrick’s life was at the time, he still knew that he’d abandoned his kid brother to get there, and not a day went by when he didn’t think just in the slightest about what his brother might be up to and how he might be doing. Of course not enough to call him or even shoot him a text. He probably didn’t even have his cell phone number and by the time Finley probably got a phone it’d been too long since the pair had talked anyway. It was Patrick who made the conscious decision to stop coming home for holidays, stop coming home for school breaks, and to eventually just stop coming home. He’d made LA his home as soon as he moved there for school and then he never looked back. He was the one who left his eight year old brother in the care of two good-for-nothing drunks who couldn’t parent a child if there lives depended on it - literally. In all reality Patrick was surprised he didn’t let his parents’ behavior mold him into becoming a deadbeat of his own and that he’d been able to get away and make a name for himself. Sure, Pat was still young in the business but he was out there in LA as a successful business man. He’d gotten a job right out college, he’d gotten the smart, beautiful girl that he hoped to make his wife soon enough. His life was good.

But coming home to this reminded Patrick of just how guilty he really ought to have been feeling from the start. When he made that decision to leave home at eighteen it made sense. Most everyone he knew was leaving for school somewhere, but not everyone decided to never come back. Not everyone had nothing left for them at home, however. At eighteen Patrick had promised Finn that he’d be in touch and that he would call every week and that he’d be home in time for the holidays before he knew it. For the first few weeks he did call, just as promised, but then college became college and Patrick found himself more consumed in extracurricular and studying and having a social life, all of which left little to no time to call home to chat with his eight year old brother. He didn’t realize at the time just how awful that was, but looking back now he realized just how shitty that had to have been. He knew that when he was younger Finley looked up to him. He knew that when he, at seventeen and eighteen, was the one going to his parent-teacher conferences because their dad was off God knows where and their mom passed out drunk at the kitchen table, and having his brother’s teachers tell him that he ‘is the one that Finley talks about and admires’. And Patrick was happy to be that person in his brother’s life, but that was a lot of responsibility for the kid and he couldn’t just not go to college..

It only made sense that with Pat gone for so many years and just the way that their parents had been that Finley might have grown up with such an attitude, but the younger Griffin’s remarks caught Patrick by surprise as he paused, looking over at his brother with slightly knitted brows and a smile of disbelief. “Excuse me?” Patrick questioned with a scoff, almost laughing as he shook his head lightly. “You can’t just load the dishwasher and push the button to turn it on?”  He questioned with a shrug as he stuffed the last plate into the bag. “Look, I don’t want to be doing this either but it’s got to get done and it’d be really helpful if you could give me fifteen minutes.” Just then Patrick looked past the younger male and to the clock hanging on the wall just through the entryway into the kitchen, squinting slightly to read. “It’s almost ten, don’t you have school tomorrow? Where were you planning on going?” He was sure his parents likely never set any kind of curfew for Finley similar to how they’d never set one with him, but Finley needed structure. He had to have been exhausted from everything happening, he probably needed his sleep because there was no way Patrick was going to let him miss another day of school. Besides, maybe it was a little selfish but if Finley stuck around not only would they get everything done quicker but then Patrick could finally have some time to talk with his brother, learn about his life, work on opening those communication lines.

[patgrif]

It was unfortunate that the circumstances that called Patrick back to the small, suburban California town in which he was so eager to never return to again had to be associated with death. After ten years and moving a mere hour away to Los Angeles, the twenty-eight year old had only returned a handful of times, including the few winter breaks he spent at home during his college years. The truth of the matter was that there wasn’t much left for Patrick in the small beach town where he spent his youth. Just about all that was even worth going back for was Finley, but even that relationship had grown astray. His parents were no reason to return home - aside from their deaths, that was. It wasn’t much of a surprise when Patrick learned of their death. A shock, certainly, but he couldn’t say he was surprised. If anything he was surprised it hadn’t happened sooner. Those were the expectation that Pat had grown up with having careless parents who cared more about getting high and feeling good rather than making sure their children had dinner on the table or what kinds of grades they received. Growing up, Pat hated his parents. He resented them with every fiber in his body. By the time he finally turned 18 and was able to leave for college he knew the only reason he would ever come back would be for his kid brother.. and even that he realized he had failed to do.

Through all of the resentment Patrick found that he was still sad. Although he hated his parents, they were still that. His parents. And even if they hadn’t talked in months, if not longer, knowing they were gone forever just made him feel some sort of way. There was suddenly so much to do, with a funeral to plan, a will to sort through, all of the other legal documents, and of course Finley. What was to be done with him? He was legal now, at 18, but Patrick knew that no 18 year old was ready to be on their own. His brother was going to need him. He was going to have to take time off of work, spend sometime living at home with Finley, make the hour long commute when he couldn’t afford any more time off. But fortunately for Patrick, there was Mel. The one thing that knew how to make sense of anything, the one thing that kept him sane and gave him a reason to keep trying to be better than what his parents had been. Together the two made the short trip back to Pat’s hometown where she assisted him in planning everything, and likely thanks to her, everything went smoothly.

The funeral had taken place that morning, with the wake following shortly after. They’d decided to have that wake at the funeral home rather than the home because nobody wanted any resemblance of their parents dead bodies in their home - they’d already made their home feel like anything but. The day was far from over as the Griffins then hosted a small reception afterwards where neighbors and friends came to pay their respects, eat their food, and leave them with the same noodle casseroles that would inevitably be thrown out and untouched. By the time the last visitor left it was going on nine thirty and Patrick was exhausted. Mel had offered to run to the store to grab a few things that Patrick had forgotten to pack in the middle of his shock upon learning of the deaths. With Mel gone Patrick placed his hands on his hips and sighed heavily as he looked around at the mess that had been left after the reception. “Sure, come tell me about how you’ll miss the neighbors that you spent however many years trying to avoid running into while taking out the trash and make sure you don’t throw out your damn plate before you go,” Patrick muttered bitterly to himself as he collected a handful of plastic plates that had been littered around the house, shaking his head. The place was a mess. Carrying a large trash bag around, Patrick tossed as much as he could into the bag as he heard quick feet coming down the stairs. Looking up at the stairwell as he grabbed a few more things to toss into the bag, Patrick was met with Finley whom he hadn’t actually gotten to see much of all that day or even really since he’d gotten in town the few days before. He figured he was spending his time away from the family home that was full of memories and trying to distract himself with his friends, so he didn’t take it personally. “Hey, Fin,” he spoke up, clearing his throat as he stood up straight. “You mind just grabbing some of those empty dishes on the table and just putting them in the dishwasher?” He asked innocently, looking down to grab another plate. He could use the help, and perhaps just the company. They had a lot to catch up on.