[Declan rolls up his sleeves and starts cleaning - at least whatever this is cleans up easy-
-he's about three quarters of the way through it before he realizes he's crying again, that the terror he thought was gone is back and seizing in the base of his stomach. This is such bullshit. This is his father's fucking gift to him, he thinks; cleaning up when his little brothers almost die, being responsible for their secrets and their horrors, always being held hostage by his own fear that one day he'll wake up and he'll be alone.
He scrubs through it and finishes, wedging himself between the island and the counter, feet flat against the floor, his knees up. He's not allowed to be this. He's not allowed to be the one who falls apart. He doesn't have that luxury.
He holds his arms on his knees and hangs his head and doesn't notice that the shower isn't running anymore, that it hasn't been running for a while.]
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-he's about three quarters of the way through it before he realizes he's crying again, that the terror he thought was gone is back and seizing in the base of his stomach. This is such bullshit. This is his father's fucking gift to him, he thinks; cleaning up when his little brothers almost die, being responsible for their secrets and their horrors, always being held hostage by his own fear that one day he'll wake up and he'll be alone.
He scrubs through it and finishes, wedging himself between the island and the counter, feet flat against the floor, his knees up. He's not allowed to be this. He's not allowed to be the one who falls apart. He doesn't have that luxury.
He holds his arms on his knees and hangs his head and doesn't notice that the shower isn't running anymore, that it hasn't been running for a while.]