Belonging

[potassiumboron]

​

When Wesley Wood had been born, he was guaranteed a lot of things. He was guaranteed to have five older brothers who would to look after him, and he would have a mother who did everything in her power to make him feel loved and safe. That wasn't to say that his family were the epitome of normality; they were as far from it as was physically possible, but the love they had for one another was commendable. Wesley, therefore, had a childhood that consisted of love; something not every child at the orphanages he had been forced into had the pleasure of experiencing.

Wesley hadn't been like his brothers in a lot of ways. They seemed to take their mother's philosophy seriously, joining in with her warped view of the world and genuinely liking the violence their small farmhouse had been home to over the years. Wesley often slipped back away from the violence, but it didn't once affect the way he looked at his brothers or mother. He was terrified and often brought to sickness at the sight of the blood and mutilation that took place within his home, but he still clung to his mother at night and smiled up at her when she lovingly tucked in him and his brothers. He was fiercely dependent on every member of his family, even if their activities were hardly... enjoyable for the young boy.

All those memories, however, had disappeared as the years drifted by. A combination of physical beatings and heavy (unnecessary) medication left the young man unable to recollect a lot of his past life. He was fed lies synonymous with the realities of a child in care; he was told that his parents were incapable of caring for him and gave him up. That was far from the truth. His mother had fought for years to try and find where her sons were, and try to get access to them. Her reputation and her limited financial resources, however, meant that, for ten years, Wesley was left to suffer through various orphanages, unable to even rely on his memories of his loving family for comfort.

The asylum he was thrown in a few months prior was easily the scariest place he had been in. Being punished for doing nothing wasn't uncommon, having been punished five years ago so brutally that it completely fucked up his brain, but the idea of suffering through electroshock therapy was a new terror for him. The only thing that made the experience even remotely bearable was Maria. Up until her arrival, Wesley had to deal with nurses who didn't understand him. They didn't care enough to educate themselves with his file; to learn that an attack had left him with issues. His common confusion, however, was explained by them as stupidity, and that seemed a perfectly reasonable excuse to tease and torment him.

Maria wasn't like that. She was nurturing, caring and only encouraged him, rather than discourage him through teasing. It took their first encounter together for him to gush to a friend that he was in love, and even though the asylum was still a place of utter hell for him, she made it all better.

Seeing her enter the main living room easily brought a smile to his face, waiting patiently for her to get to him with his daily dose of pills. He didn't like taking them, but it never seemed that big of an issue when Maria was distributing them. She could be offering arsenic, and he'd probably swallow it down because she told him to.

"...Can we try reading again today? I sure am close to reading a paragraph, Maria. I reckon I could read the whole book by the end of the month," the younger man gushed as he swallowed the pills down with ease - he was a pro at it at this point. Gesturing to the book in his hands, his fingers ran through the pages proudly. His illiteracy was always a factor of embarrassment for him, so he was determined to continue his teaching with Maria... especially when it gave him an excuse to be around her. "...You look real pretty today. You look pretty all the time, ma'am. Just extra pretty today."

 

[saturnia pavonia]

With the tray of pills in one hand and the book neatly hidden behind her back with the other, Maria couldn't help but immediately grow red upon seeing the boy. She hurried over - while still being careful with the pills - completely ignoring the other patients. She knew it was selfish but she would always make Wesley a priority, especially when realizing they had a connection. Hell, she, too, gushed to her coworkers about their instant connection, claiming that they were soulmates the minute she set eyes on the boy.

He was... different. Maria had dealt with other men before, both back in France and now in America, and none of them felt right. Her father would find men for her in hopes of the two marrying that fit his bill, but none of them seemed to have the personality that Wesley had. Maybe it was the fact that he wasn't superficial like the other men she had met and gone on dates with - sure, she knew that the other thought she was pretty but she also knew that there weren't any ulterior motives. So, with that being said, she had no problem getting close to offer the book over.

"They say flattery will get you nowhere in life, you know? I think they're a bunch of liars," she teased, her accent thick as she neatly sat beside the other while adjusting her cardigan. While she did fine in school once coming to America, it didn't mean that she was the best at reading English herself. It was a learning experience for them both and, in her mind, it only brought them closer. "Now, how are you feeling? You know that I can't just come here for fun, I have to bring back something for the doctor. Are you alright? I can get you something if you aren't if you'd like. I... I want you to get better, yes?" She explained quickly before carefully setting a gentle hand on the man's forehead.

 

[potassiumboron]

"...There's nothing wrong with me, y'know? Y'all think there's something wrong with me but there really ain't. I'm not messed up, I swear. I... I don't think I should be here, taking up a space from someone who needs it-- but I'm glad I'm here. I wouldn't have met you and you're my favourite person, Maria," he gushed, his own blush spreading at the physical contact from her. The contact was usually only limited to these forehead touches, or brief squeezes on his shoulders, but he appreciated them nonetheless. No other patient seemed to get this level of attention, and it was the evidence he needed for him to realise that his feelings weren't one-sided. He had been told that he was delusional for feeling that he had a connection with Maria, but he knew that those feelings were reciprocated.

He was aware that his head wasn't the most stable of places these days. He forgot why that was, having no recollection of the attack that made him this way, but he was certain that he wasn't fabricating Maria's behaviour. He was deadly certain that she was feeling the same way as him, and it was just unfortunate that none of the friends he had made in the asylum took him seriously, pointing out the fact that he was hardly reliable when his mind wasn't the best at determining things.

"The doctor's not a good man, he hurts us," he continued, rubbing at his arms quietly, his eyes flickering nervously from the table to the nurse hovering near him. "Be careful, I... I'd hate it here without you, ma'am. I--"

"...Nurse Maria, I take it you're having a nice talk with young Wesley here. If you're quite done, I need you to attend to one of our new residents, he's proving to be quite the handful," drawled Josiah upon spotting the new nurse he had hired getting far too close with Wesley for his liking. He was used to seeing the nurses he hired treat the patients coldly and with detachment, as he thought it should be. He didn't see any need for affection and sympathy, especially not when it was directed to Wesley. He didn't know why, but he had a visceral hated for the harmless young man.

"Let's not waste valuable time on the likes of him-- have you learned to read yet, Wesley? Work on that, and do try to do it without mumbling the words aloud. It's off-putting, even from a gormless buffoon like you-- Nurse Maria? I want you to go and greet our new resident, and try not to get punched. Those outfits cost a fortune, I won't have blood staining them because of your stupidity. Do try and hurry along, hm? Force the pills down his throat and get him settled in here while we sort out a room for him."

 

[saturnia pavonia]

Almost immediately standing up at the familiar voice, the somewhat flighty nurse offered a nervous giggle as she wrung her hands, trying her best to keep calm and seem casual, though mostly for Wesley's sake. She had seen the torture the other nurses and doctors could perform on patients without even a look of sympathy and it disturbed her. Sure, some patients may be violent or rude but more often than not, they were just people that didn't seem to fit in conventional society. They weren't hurting anyone, so why did they have to be hurt? Nonetheless, she offered a polite bow and a glance back at Wesley with a frown.

"Of... course, sir," she whispered before grabbing the metal tray. Pulling her hair up in a ponytail quickly, she offered one more glance back and a subtle wave as at least some form of reassurance before scurrying off fearfully. She wasn't very physically fit, as was evident from being pushed and even punched by unrestrained patients. Despite that, she never said no to her superiors when told to deal with the more violent of the bunch. That went the same for Oliver who was for starters, just visually tough. He had a good amount of bruises and scratches from the fights he had unknowingly gotten into over the years. Inhaling hard, she nervously looked around in hopes to at least be accompanied by another nurse.

 

[potassiumboron]

Even though several other nurses were dispatched from their current duties to deal with Oliver's arrival, Josiah still found himself irritably walking out to meet the patient himself, annoyed with how long it seemed to be taking to deal with him. He was inevitably used to dealing with troubled patients, and the method of dealing with them revolved around using his strength to disorientate them, shoving some strong pills down their throat and leaving them to lounge lethargically for hours. If that didn't work, there were always more... severe methods to sedate them into obedience and submission, and really, he didn't take much convincing to go to those lengths. Anything Josiah could do to instil obedience under his authority, he would do. He didn't want an asylum of unruly, wild lunatics, after all.

"Does this man really require my attention? Couldn't you all handle him by yourselves? Don't you know how busy I am?" He groaned, rubbing his temples as he glared at each nurse who seemingly failed to force Oliver to take his pills, as was a requirement from the moment a patient entered Josiah's facility. Calmly grabbing the pills from a nurse, his spare hand moved to grab Oliver's jaw to force the pills in, before clamping his hand over his mouth so he couldn't spit them out. The rough treatment wasn't a rarity, nor was it reserved for Oliver alone - it was common practise under Josiah's watch for him and his nurses to treat patients with as much physicality as was required.

"Any trouble from you in future and I'll send some volts into that brain of yours, understand me?" He drawled, though his accent wasn't as strong as others in the asylum. He had travelled across the country during his youth, and spending weeks in various places across the country had its effect on his accent... though he'd argue it was only for the better. "Swallow those pills and get your ass in that living room. Play chess with one of the other lunatics-- Oliver, yes? Go and relax, you've had a long trip. You should be tired out, so I recommend that you make some friends and not cause trouble. Make life easier for yourself by not making any enemies, especially not out of me. The nurses will get you settled on in there, so try and be nice."

 

[saturnia pavonia]

If it weren't for the fact that he had been properly bound by the nurses, Oliver's hands would immediately wrap themselves around the doctor's throat. No one touched him, not without his own choice, so for this man to just grab his jaw and force it closed wasn't ideal. He chose to say nothing, though, and instead waited when the doctor was far enough to spit out the soggy mess onto the floor.

This wasn't his first rodeo. In the years he had been put in the asylums, doctors had only been able to successfully feed him medication 5 times and Josiah wasn't going to make it a sixth, especially not when he was just grabbed without his permission.

"You aren't going to say hello?" He questioned flatly, his expression stoic outside of a very small grimace at the lingering taste of the pills. Tugging hard on the straps still holding him back, his grimace only grew. "Get me out of these fucking straps and I'll be a good little boy."

"Sir, I... I don't think that's a good idea," commented Maria quietly with a nervous frown. "I-I... I'm sorry, aha... it just wouldn't be safe yet."

 

[potassiumboron]

"How long have you been working here, Maria? A week? Two, maybe? And you have the audacity to try and tell me how to run this place; a place I've successfully built from the ground up, almost entirely by myself? Oliver here isn't the first patient to give me some trouble and he certainly won't be the last. He's not going to be given special treatment just because he poses a threat. He'll sit in with the other patients, I'm not going to take out of my schedule to accommodate a troublemaker. It's down to you nurses to instil calm in the recreation room, not mine," the doctor remarked indifferently, his eyes rolling at the woman's words. He had no trouble calling her out in front of her peers, or belittling her as though she was his child. He just didn't have the energy to deal with it. He loved his work and the reputation it brought him, but it wasn't a job to go into if he wanted to avoid stress. The job stressed him out, there was no simple way around it. Even though he knew the trouble Oliver could pose, he did just want to wipe his hands clean of the situation and leave it for the guards and the nurses to handle. Was that irresponsible? Entirely, but he felt he deserved a break... even after doing very little all morning.

Left to deal with the troublesome Oliver by themselves, a nurse silently took the lead and tightened Oliver's straps, just to lessen the chance of him attacking them. It could still happen, as was evident by the throat-grabbing just moments prior, but the chances were at least less likely the tighter he was strapped to the wheelchair. Even though they thought trouble would only break out with Oliver among the patients, who were at least somewhat docile after their medication, they couldn't avoid following orders, and so wheeled Oliver in, however reluctant it was.

Up until Oliver's admission into the asylum, Wesley had been the newest arrival. He wasn't used to seeing new faces in the place, and it did unnerve him a little once he caught sight of Oliver... though only because he felt he'd seen him before from somewhere. With his memory being as bad as it was, Oliver's face was familiar but not recognisable to him without someone stirring the memory awake for him. Instead, he had to sit trying to figure out who his own brother was. With his pills kicking in, he wasn't even up to the task of committing himself to that sort of mental energy, either. He could barely lift the cup of water without his arms shaking and spilling it; a fact that caught the attention of a nearby nurse who assumed he was being trouble, and promptly slapped him for his disobedience. As incredible as it was, the slap barely affected him. He had suffered a lot worse than that, so a harsh slap didn't physically register. Emotionally, however? The fact he was being punished completely bewildered him, his brows furrowing in upset at the sudden reprimand, for something he couldn't even help.

 

[saturnia pavonia]

Oliver stared at the man before him for a moment. It had been ten years since he saw his little brother. The day he was taken away from Wesley was one of the worst days of his life, especially after dealing with the disturbing realization that he had killed the couple so brutally. Glancing at the nurse behind him, he squirmed in discomfort in his eagerness to get her attention when the connection finally clicked.

"That.... fuck, that's Wesley," he commented casually with a nervous laugh of excitement, his southern drawl only growing in his excitement. "Oi, girl, bring me over to him, will you?! Oh my god, Wesley!" He called. Despite being bound tight to the wheelchair, he didn't even care. All he wanted to do was pull his brother in a tight hug. It was only when he was reluctantly pushed closer to him by Maria did his smile drop.

"Wes... Jesus, what did they do to you?" He whispered in horror once face-to-face. "Wesley, what's wrong with you? Are you okay - is he okay? You... what, did you scramble up his brain? Why? Jesus, y'all are fucking monsters." He snapped with a grimace as he once again began to squirm from his wheelchair, causing Maria to squeak warily. The whole situation was scary for her - she didn't know Wesley had a brother, having not really looked into his file too much. She also couldn't imagine connecting the sweet and quiet Wesley to the clearly more energetic and aggressive Oliver.

 

[potassiumboron]

As the mark on his cheek reddened, Wesley's attention went from nervously trying to mop the water from the desk with his sleeves to staring awkwardly at the approaching Oliver. The fact he seemed to know his name was confirmation that the familiarity he felt wasn't all in his head. He often had that problem - he sometimes blanked people he had met and seemed to recognise those he had never met before in his life. This wasn't an example of that, and he was relieved that, for once, his head could be relied upon. That didn't make remembering Oliver any easier, however. He knew that he must know him from somewhere, and that he had to be close to him. The sudden rush of happiness he felt but couldn't explain was enough evidence for him that Oliver was someone he must have loved and cared for, however antithetical their personalities clearly were.

"Don't yell at her like that. She's a lady, you gotta respect ladies. How would your Momma feel, knowing you were being rude to a lady?" He drawled slowly in return, taking his time to formulate each word without stumbling, though just mentioning their mother seemed to do the trick in stirring his memory. He hadn't even thought about their mother for years, only just remembering her face from dreams he didn't put too much emphasis on. Being sat in front of his brother and mentioning their mother jogged his memory enough to cause a smile of recognition to pull at his lips, reaching across to take his brother's hands eagerly.

"Oli? I'm not... imagining this, am I? I forgot... I forgot about you and about Momma and... why are you here? Where's Momma? Is she coming to get me?" Wesley blurted anxiously. The moment he remembered he actually had a mother, he instantly yearned for her contact. His memory hadn't jogged enough to remember the hobbies he family partook in, but he remembered how much he was loved, and that was more than enough after years of mistreatment. Hell, just having Oliver was a huge comfort, even if his big brother looked completely different to him.

"I...this is my brother, Oliver. This is Maria, she's my favourite nurse. She's teaching me how to read," he gushed eagerly up at the woman, his smile widening at how happy he was for the first time in... well, years. "...You shouldn't be here, Oli. I shouldn't be here. I told 'em, I ain't sick-- you ain't sick neither. This ain't fair-- but I... I'm glad you're here. You... are here, right? I don't wanna get punished for imagining shit again."

 

[saturnia pavonia]

"No, no, I'm here," he quickly encouraged, his eyes scanning his brother's poor state with clear worry. Sure, he was in a less than proper state himself but that didn't matter. Why would it? This was his little brother and, for the first time in years, Oliver's eyes became wet with tears both from a confusing mix of joy and sadness. He didn't know what life held for his brother when they were separated but he knew that if any of their family had a chance of normality, it was Wesley. He seemed to be far more cautious and caring than the others and to see his brother locked up in some shitty asylum with equally shitty doctors broke his heart.

"Let me go... please," he murmured in an attempt to have his commands at least come off as a little less... well, demanding. Glancing over at the nurse, he did offer a thankful smile when she moved to reluctantly undo the straps that kept his arms bound tightly to the wheelchair. The minute he was released, he practically tackled Wesley in a hug and pulled him close.

"I didn't think I'd see you again," he murmured into the other's neck, the sound of soft sobs being muffled. "God - I'm gonna get us outta here, okay? We'll see mama and the others and... it'll all go back to normal, okay? You don't deserve none of this, you've done nothing wrong - I swear to God, if they even dare to touch you again I will rip out their fuckin' throats with my bare hands," he threatened, only lifting his head to take in the nurses that seemed to be 'attending' to the others.

"O-Oh, yes, I agree!" Maria offered warily as she rubbed her arm. It wasn't a lie, her opinion, but it was strange to admit it. Offering a nervous smile, she decided to offer a meek wave. "I've been... taking care of your brother. This is definitely strange, you two are so... different?
C'est fou," she admitted with a smile before once again adjusting her ponytail to keep her hands busy.

 

[potassiumboron]

"You don't need to threaten with violence, it'll just get 'ya in more trouble. And you don't gotta blaspheme. God's... protecting us, I think. This could be a lesson, that's what my foster parents used to say. The hardship is a lesson I gotta push through, so... so as bad as it is, it'll be worth it, I reckon. And it ain't so bad here. I got Maria and she's real great, and I made some other friends, though they're kinda mean to me sometimes-- but that's fine too. You're here now and I don't need no fake friends when I got you," the younger brother babbled, his hand absently clutching the cross around his neck. He wasn't even that certain he believed in a benevolent God when he had been put through hell, and especially when seeing his brother in the same situation. Even if he did remember the violence and their childhood, he still didn't think Oliver deserved any of this. His brother (and the rest of his family) were perfect in his eyes and ought to be exempt from any punishment. But his religion at least gave him some comfort to cling to, even if he was a little dubious of it.

"...You think we'll see Momma again? I... can't remember her that well. Or the others. My mind's scrambled, I think. I ain't got the best... brain. I remember her bathing us together and putting us to bed and we'd go feed the pigs and chickens and stuff. I can't remember much more than that, you'll need to fill me in," he laughed, scratching the side of his head nervously. He had no reason to be nervous around his brother, he knew that, but he had also just seen him resort to murderous threats. He may have had a reason to, but he didn't connect violence with Oliver when his memory was this fucked.

"Ah... we're not that different, I don't think. We like the same stuff, we were always playing together as kids. We have... four other brothers, I think, but it was always Oli and me that hung out the most. He's just protective, he ain't gonna hurt you. I won't let him, you're too sweet for that." Wes nodded firmly, reaching to take Maria's hand quickly. Showing his affection for her wasn't easy, but in brief, small doses, he could get away without anyone knowing. He wanted to give her a kiss, but that was pretty impossible for the time being. "...Maybe if I get out of here, I could take you to see my Momma's farm? You'd like it, I reckon. We had all these cute pigs and... I think we had some cows, too. It was real adorable from what I remember."

 

[saturnia pavonia]

"That sounds lovely, Wesley," she said, her cheeks growing rosy. If there was one thing that seemed to cheer her up, it was Wesley and his promises. She knew they weren't very likely - hell, it was rare for patients to ever leave the asylum in general, so the idea of the man getting out soon wasn't very likely. That didn't mean she didn't have hope, though, as was evident of her offering him a hard squeeze of her hand return and a bashful glance away.

Now Oliver wasn't an idiot, and it took one not to notice the two's affection for each other. For Oliver, he found the scene disgustingly sweet, though didn't interrupt them. Wesley looked happy, and that was the most important thing. Lounging back a tad onto one of the chairs, he simply watched as Maria nervously giggled. The hand touching was something so simple but apparently so dangerous that she'd get flustered over it? It was... sweet, he guessed.

He was also admittedly jealous at the scene. He had been trying to get out of the system for years now, actively trying to liberate himself, while Wesley was having fun in such a shithole? It made him scowl, admittedly, and run a hand through his hair to focus on something other than his bitterness.

"Hey, nurse, where can a man get a pack of cigarettes? The last shitty place handed them out, yeah?" He commented when he had enough of the scene. "They keep me calm, isn't that the whole point of this place?"

 

[potassiumboron]

Wesley's head snapped to his brother at his request, his brow lifted curiously. He hadn't had any experience with cigarettes, but he knew most of the nurses smoked them, and he knew from experience that Josiah liked his cigars - he was always threatening to burn his patients with them if they stepped a toe over the line. He had nothing really against smoking, but it never appealed to him... until Oliver seemed to be into it.

As was the case with any of his big brothers, Wesley had always looked up to them and tried to replicate their behaviour. The only exception was the violence they had been brought up to consider normal and enjoyable, but even then he at least tried to have a go at it, only to decide at the last minute it wasn't for him. However, smoking a cigarette didn't seem as scary as learning how to handle a meat cleaver. If he enjoyed the experience of smoking, it would give him something else to have in common with his brother, and that could only be positive, right?

"...I'd like a cigarette too, if that's okay. I... can always give it a go. If Oli says they help him, then maybe I should try too?" Wes smiled politely, tapping his hands on the table to try and relax himself. He could already feel a headache brewing, so he was admittedly placing hope in a cigarette or two to help deal with the pain. At the very least, he could bond with his brother a little more after years apart from him, during which he had ashamedly forgotten about his existence. "...I don't think there's anything wrong with you though, Oliver. You're as normal as I am, I think. We shouldn't be here, they should just let us go back to Momma, really-- we'll get out, I know that. They can't keep us here if we ain't sick, right?"

 

[saturnia pavonia]

"You're right," he nodded as he watched Maria hurry off. Glancing over at his brother, he offered a smile before moving to fix Wesley's hair a tad. "There ain't nothin' wrong with us, they're just afraid of our family. We didn't do anything wrong, especially not you. You... don't deserve any of this, Wes. Sure, I'm no angel but they put us here all because we had a bit too much fun. It's hardly fair, especially for you," he insisted. He didn't want to get his brother upset about the truth, especially seeing him in the state he was in.

Over the years, Oliver realized just how fucked up their family was, mostly because the other orphans and workers pounded that thought into his head every minute they could. His mother and his older brothers were psychopaths, they would insist, and babble on about how he was just like them. If Wesley had no memory of that, he wasn't going to tarnish his opinion on their family more.

"I miss home," he admitted with a soft sigh. "A lot. I don't even know what they look like anymore, yeah? Fuck - I mean, you look a lot different, Wes. You're all grown up, it's crazy. Clearly you're handsome enough to score a pretty girl, though, aren't ya?" He teased with a nudge while offering a wide grin. "You're lucky, she's pretty cute. French, too? How poetic."

 

[potassiumboron]

Having his brother around was already the highlight of his whole year, but to have him also seem to recognise the connection he had with Maria was relieving. He had spent days doubting whether this was all in his own head, or even if he was inventing her. That had happened before, much to his horror - he had learnt that he had held conversations with people that he had completely fabricated. Even though he heard people talking to Maria, a small fear of his that was she simply wasn't real, but Oliver confirmed that that fear was ludicrous.

"It ain't about the looks, really. I mean, she's real pretty, but she's so nice to me and I like that the most. She ain't... I dunno the word, but she's always encouraging me and telling me I'm not a waste of space. It's why I don't like you yellin' at her. She's the only nice one in this joint," he quietly defended, watching the nurse leave the room without trying to hide the smile on his face. It was only until he really acknowledged his brother's words that his smile faltered, replaced with a confused frown.

"...Why are they afraid of our family? The guys at my last orphanage told me Momma couldn't look after us properly, said she wasn't up to it. She struggled, right? I... don't remember her ever ignoring me, but I don't remember a lot, Oli. They told me that, like, she had to give us up," he continued slowly, his frown deepening at how much more confusing this was getting, and it hardly helped the migraine in his head. Instead of focusing on it, not really interested in the answer at the moment, he forced a smile quickly and rested his copy of the Bible on the table. Everything else he had gathered from orphanages had been either broken or stolen, or simply taken from him by the authoritative figures, but everyone seemed to want to leave his Bible alone. He couldn't read anything from it, and nobody seemed to want to read it to him, but it was still his. Having possession of something when his whole life had been spent being moved around was a source of consistency he now cherished.

"When we get outta here, we'll go home, right? And Maria can come see the farm and Momma can make something nice for dinner and... and it'll be fine, I ain't worried. They can hurt me as much as they want, they ain't gonna get to me. I just brush it off. I ain't gonna get out if I let 'em break me down-- you taught me that, to be strong and stuff. I remember that at least."

 

[saturnia pavonia]

"I'm glad you're strong but that's no excuse for them to treat you like shit, Wes," he murmured, choosing to simply skip over the not-so-nice details of their family. Wesley was clearly not in a good state and he wasn't going to selfishly slander it, especially when he seemed so happy. Watching as Maria made her way back, he offered another nudge.

"Hey, you keep her close, okay?" He ordered in a whisper. "Not any ol' bloke can get a girl, especially not somewhere like here. Granted, our family is notoriously handsome," he teased with a wink, only shutting up when Maria handed them each a pack with just a bit of confusion on Wesley's behalf.

"I'll light them for you," she explained as she fumbled with the lighter. She was always told that cigarettes, just like alcohol, was an unnecessary sin. To see Wesley suddenly interested was... confusing, though she kept her mouth shut and simply smiled. "I'm so glad you're here, Oliver. Wesley is... very important to me, yes? I'm glad you can make him happy. That being said, I won't have you hurting him, understood?" She scolded, though she was the least demanding person in the world, so her rosy cheeks and nervous hand discredited the demand almost instantly.

 

[potassiumboron]

"He ain't gon' hurt me. He's never hurt me, he ain't gonna start now, Maria. He's... my best friend, he'll look out for me. Not that I need it, I'm not a lil' kid anymore," he answered back with a curious glance at the cigarette, though he admittedly liked how it felt once he got his hands on it. Not wanting to take a drag without watching Oliver first, he patiently held back with a quiet smile. Even if he hadn't done a great job at it when they were kids, he only ever wanted to impress his brothers.

They were the ones to get mad at him for shying away from the violence, for being fussy when it came to dinnertime, or whenever he began to cry at the sight of a corpse or two that hadn't been disposed of yet. His mother had her own disappointment, but she never got mad with him, so he never felt a strong urge to really... impress her, when she already accepted his faults. His brothers, on the other hand, were far more harsh with him, and he saw this reunion with Oliver as a chance to show him that he could live up to expectations... even if it was just through a cigarette at the moment. He wanted to make him proud, so like hell was he going to jump into smoking without seeing how it was done first.

"...Where were you before this? Another hospital? You look like they've been hurting you, I ain't happy with that," continued Wesley, trying to at least show the same fierce protectiveness Oliver had shown over him. He might still be reserved and gentle in comparison to his brother, but he was also a young adult who had definitely grown up over the years. He could defend Oliver, physically or verbally, if he had to, and he wanted to show Oliver that. "...I could look out for you in here. I'm not... a fighter, but I've been in fights and I... I ain't done too bad."

 

[saturnia pavonia]

"I'm fine, Wes," he reassured with a dry chuckle as he took in a deep breath of his cigarette. He didn't need much in life, but cigarettes were on the small list of things he couldn't live without. It wasn't rare to have cigarettes handed out, thankfully. Glancing at his brother, he offered a cocky grin as he intentionally showed off just how easily he could take in the toxic smoke. He had been doing it for three years now and he had no intentions of giving away one of the only pleasures he had in life.

"You don't have to copying me, Wes. You're your own person, yeah? But... if you're gonna be cool, I guess I'm who to look for, yeah?" He boasted playfully. "Look, I'm tough and I'll be fine. I'm You're big brother for fuck's sake, I'm supposed to look after all you."

 

[potassiumboron]

"Well you won't be fine because you look like shit and I wanna help. Two's better in a fight than one, Oli," he frowned, though it wasn't to do with his brother's stubbornness. Sure, he would have liked to be seen as serious and have his help accepted, but he was used to his brother refusing to budge from his protective role. It was the same story with each of his older brothers. The fact he had always been a naturally shy child hadn't helped; they saw him as someone that needed even more protection. A few years apart from Oliver was hardly going to change that. If anything, Wesley was aware he would want to look out for him even more.

"I... I don't cuss usually, ma'am, I... I don't wanna get in the habit of that kinda language," he hurriedly apologised, almost choking on the smoke he had inhaled. He had done it rather smoothly considering it was his first time, even enjoying the first drag, but it came to an end the moment he realised he had sworn. He had done so before, it wasn't a thing he was too bothered about, but he also saw Maria as a lady; someone far too pure for that sort of thing. He didn't want her suddenly looking down at him because he'd uttered a single cuss.

"I don't swear usually, I'm just... I'm happy Oliver's here. It's a mighty big coincidence, ain't it? I'm glad they put you here," he grinned as he took another long drag from the cigarette. "...Just don't cause trouble, Oli. Not that you would, but they're pretty serious 'round here. The main guy, Dr. Johnstone, he's real bad work, so... so be good 'cos I wanna get out soon, with you. Not many people get to leave but Maria says I have a good shot at it."

 

[saturnia pavonia]

"You do! You're so sweet, and you'd never hurt a fly," Maria praised, far happier to talk about Wesley than focus on the fact that he swore. With such hard religious beliefs, it definitely had her a bit disappointed. That being said, she immediately accepted his apology once offered it. At least he felt genuine in his apology, unlike some men who just pushed her to the side and disregarded her for being some flighty, overly religious girl. "I don't understand why the others are so mean to you. You... are very respectful, Wesley, and I'm sure your brother is, too."

"No need to stroke my ego, doll," Oliver drawled before leaning back a tad, his eyes closing. While he hadn't taken the whole dose, a bit of it still managed to get into his system, making him at the very least drowsy. Rubbing his face wearily, he sat up and looked around the activities room before taking in another deep inhale of the cigarette. Anything to make him feel like he was in control was beneficial. "Now, where the hell are we supposed to stay? Are we locked up in cages or something? Do we have showers? I mean, if that Dr. Johnstone or whatever wants to act all proud of his hospital, he better have some sign that it's actually good."