Chapter Text
Just get through the night.
This was the phrase that Ricky repeated to himself as he roamed the empty city streets, toting his belongings in a big, bulky backpack along with a travel-sized suitcase, practically glued to his hand. He was desperately in search of a decent alleyway or a bus station, hell, he'd even settle for a cardboard box at this point. He just needed shelter from the bitter cold of the night. He veered off into a dark alley and rested against the chilled brick of the building. He threw his head back and let out a heavy sigh.
Just get through the night.
He looked down at his hands, they were calloused and filthy. He couldn't remember the last time they weren't. He'd been wandering these streets for far too long and somehow managed to pick up every spec of dirt along the way. He was in desperate need of a shower. He glanced at the vacant road beside him, wondering how a city this crowded could still have streets so deserted. Looking back at the alleyway he now found himself in, he discovered how absolutely disgusting it was. Although now abandoned, it seemed like every crackhead, heroin addict, and $20 hooker within a 10 mile radius had once occupied the small space. Used condoms, old needles, and forgotten makeshift beds lay scattered across the ground. The sight alone made him grimace at the thought of sleeping in a place so vile, no matter how dirty he already was. He cursed softly to himself and rounded the corner once more, leaving the alley behind, just like all its past tenants.
He closed his eyes as he continued walking down the sidewalk. He let his mind wonder, trying to block out the feeling of complete hopelessness consuming him, and soon enough he became lost in his own thoughts . He fell back into the past, remembering the privilege of having a warm bed to sleep in, which now seemed like a heaven sent miracle compared to where he'd been sleeping lately. He remembered hot dinners and steamy showers, his own room, his own house, parents who cared for him, and a family he could call his own. But that had all been long gone. It was something Ricky could never get back. He had learned to accept it over the years, but on nights like this-- when he couldn't even find a decent place to lay his head without fear of being shanked or mugged-- it was all he could think about.
While he reminisced a happier time, Ricky failed to notice that he wasn't the only one out on the streets tonight. Before he could react, he ran right into somebody who, he guessed, wasn't watching where they were going either. The collision sent both parties staggering back, the luggage Ricky carried fell as his hand shot up to clutch his aching head, which had just been smashed into the other's.
"Oh! I'm- I'm so sorry! I wasn't paying attention, heh--" He heard the soft, gentle voice of a woman say.
He winced at the pain in his head and looked up at the stranger he'd been assaulted by. He found himself facing a middle aged woman, sporting blonde hair and soft eyes. She looked run down and drained, but something about her seemed welcoming and warm. Ricky realized he had been staring when she gave him a look of concern, he quickly averted her gaze. "Are you ok, honey?" She rubbed her own head, where it collided with Ricky's. "Guess I got ya pretty good there, huh? Sorry about that."
"Y-Yeah.. its fine don-don't worry about it.." He didn't understand why this strange woman was being so nice to him. Most people he'd had the misfortune of running into, or even making eye contact for that matter, would berate him for being so careless or just plain try to attack him. At first, he figured she was just some trick working the corners-- why else would a woman be out on these streets? He looked at her again; she was dressed in modest, unassuming day-to-day clothes. No fishnets, no mini skirt, no thong that was either 2 sizes too small or 2 sizes too big. Ricky frowned. Why would such a simple, homely woman be out here this late at night?
"Are you ok?" He heard her ask again. He glanced back up at that gentle smile she had permanently plastered to her face.
"U-Um.. yeah I'm-- I'm ok." Ricky was completely unsure of how to feel about this lady, but a part of him--maybe it was due to her kind nature or soothing voice-- desperately wanted to trust her.
"Jesus, kid, how old are you? You look way too young to be out here this late." She examined his dirty, ripped clothing and scrunched up her nose. Ricky hesitated before answering.
"Sixteen." He looked down at his beat-up shoes and fumbled with the sleeve of his hoodie. He heard her make a soft, pitiful sound in the back of her throat. "What are you doing out here, sweetie? Where are your parents?" The question alone make Ricky cringe.
The truth was, he didn't have any. Not anymore. They had both passed when he was only 12 years old. He often tried not to think about them, the memories still too painful to remember. He couldn't manage to croak out an answer to the woman and opted for shrugging instead. She seemed to understand and her face fell slightly. After a moment, she quietly asked, "Do you.. Are you looking for a place to stay?" Ricky's eyes shot up and he watched hers fall to the suitcase Ricky had dropped after their run in. She spotted his name, carefully etched into the side--something he did in case a rat tried to steal it when he used to stay at a shelter. "Ricardo?"
He observed the soft look in her face when their eyes met. "It.. It's just R-Ricky" he barely managed to whisper.
Her expression faltered slightly as she tried to explain to him. "Well, Ricky," she started "I, um, I run an orphanage. A few blocks from here. Its a- Its a fairly large home and we have extra beds and food and we're always looking out for kids who need a place to sleep." A sweet smile curved its way onto her lips as she considered Ricky's unchanging expression. "It doesn't have to be permanent, but I'd rather you sleep in a bed, in a safe environment than...out here on the streets."
It took a moment for her words to fully register in Ricky's mind. He couldn't believe this woman he'd just so carelessly ran into on the street-- which in any other case would have ended with a few broken ribs and a bloody nose-- was offering him a place to sleep, even if it was only temporary. Not even the local homeless shelter would take him in, claiming he was too "violent in nature." He considered it for a moment.
What if its all a trap? What if she's pulling some sex trafficking ring out of her house, and now she's trying to trap me too?
He looked up at her. She didn't seem like she was lying, and she sure as hell didn't seem like the type to recruit sex slaves. Maybe she was telling the truth. Maybe Ricky could actually get some food in his stomach and take a nice, hot shower. He almost groaned at the thought and suddenly felt dirtier and hungrier than ever. He silently cursed at himself before deciding to take his chances with this strange blonde lady.
"O-Okay but.. but just a few nights, alright? I-I don't like staying in one place too long.."
Instantly, the woman's face lit up, excited and a little surprised the teen had accepted her offer. She bent down and picked up the discarded suitcase, holding it at her side. "You can stay however long you want, honey. Now, come on. Lets get you out of the cold." She gestured for him to follow as she led them both down the street, towards a place that Ricky could call a safehaven. He looked back down at his grimy hand and clutched his fist tightly.
Maybe things aren't so hopeless after all.
"I'm Beth, by the way," he heard her say.
"Beth Smith."
____________________________________
Worn, wooden floorboard creaked as pairs of bare feet scampered across and down the hallway. The light stomping accompanied by secretive whispers and giggles belonged to the mischievous little children that had successfully snuck out of their designated beds. Hush voices became lost in the silent air of the old, familiar home where they all resided. They carefully tip toed down the splintered stairs, being sure not to make a single sound. Reaching the bottom with a satisfied hop onto the cold floor, three small snickers erupted in the still air.
Without their main caretaker home, they took their chances with playing past bedtime. As long as they didn't run into any of the adults, they'd be free to prance through the house, giggling and making fun in the quiet of the night. A voice suggested playing down the main hall, being brave enough to risk going into adult territory.
They turned a corner - expecting fun and mischief - but instead came face to face with vibrant red hair and glaring eyes pointed right at them.
"What are you guys doing up?" Summer angrily whispered at the three young girls, keeping her voice low enough as to not wake the other kids, yet her tone still stern and vicious to show she meant business. The girls avoided their sister's eye line, refusing to answer out of fear of the consequence to breaking house rules. Summer huffed, "Its way past bedtime! If you don't march upstairs and go back to bed, I'll-" her harsh threat was interrupted by a deeper voice, cutting through the air.
"I got it, Summer." The slender teen walked out from the dining hall, still in a kitchen apron. He strolled over to them, wiping his hand off with a rag, wet from doing the dishes. He regarded the girls with a smile as they seemed to let their guard down at his presence. "I'll take em back to bed."
Summer relaxed, grateful for her brother stepped in, saving her the touble of dealing with the tiny brats and allowing her to go back to bed. Sighing - her anger dissipating as quickly as it had come - she turned on her heels and dragged herself back to her room, letting out a relieved, "Thanks, Morty."
Once Summer's wrath was closed behind a door, Morty looked back at the three timid girls, who were clearly still upset they had gotten caught. "Alrighty, girls, come on lets get you to bed." He herded them out and up the stairs to the forked hallway that led to the segregated dorms, the girls' located on the right. Individually, he brought them to their rooms, tucking each one in and exchanging goodnights.
After he finished putting a small brunette to bed - Alice, the oldest of the three - he turned to leave the room, only to be stopped by a soft tug on his pant leg. He looked down and spotted the culprit - a tiny 4 year old with a tangled mop of curly hair falling over and down her shoulders. She murmured a quiet whimper at him, and gestured for him to crouch down. He complied with her request and smiled, "Yes, Maddy?"
Maddy gripped onto his sleeve, keeping herself balanced. "Momo, when's Mommy coming home?" Maddy wasn't technically Beth's daughter but she had been too young when they took her in to differentiate who was her birth mother and who wasn't. She was especially attached to Beth and often wouldn't go to bed unless she was the one to tuck her in. Unfortunately for her and Morty alike, Beth had to stay out late that night. She had what she called "business" to attend to and had put Summer and Morty in charge of taking care of the kids. Of course, this caused mayhem and disruption all throughout the house without the gatekeeper there to make sure everything was in order.
Morty sighed and gently grabbed Maddy, picking her up as he stood and rested her against his hip. "Mommy had work to do in the city, but she'll be back later. You'll have to do without her tonight, baby." He cooed, keeping his voice light and sweet as not to trigger a massive tantrum. She whined softly, but seemed to accept it with ease. She allowed Morty to tuck her in and kiss her goodnight, letting out no more than a frustrated 'hmph' at not being able to say goodnight to her favorite person. Once she was settled, he was finally able to turn and leave.
Morty practically dragged himself down the stairs, completely worn out and exhausted from his daily commute of rangling stubborn and unruly children, cleaning up messes, and trying to keep peace between his constantly bickering housemates. He slumped down on the living room couch and let out an exasperated sigh. He couldn't help but wonder where exactly his mom was. On nights like this when she dealt with her "business", she was always home before bedtime. He panicked slightly, his mother never specified what exactly she did, leaving Morty with a simple, It's work and it makes us money.
His leg started frantically bouncing, fueled by both impatience and anxiety. Even when she did work late she always called home to let him know. His mind started to wonder to much darker places, imagining different scenarios in which Beth could be harmed. He huffed slightly, hoping none of that was the case. Although he knew how dangerous the night streets could be, he also knew his mother could handle herself. Still, he prayed she was alright.
His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the distant sound of jingling keys outside the front door. This caused Morty to quickly hop up from his spot and prepared to scold his mother for making him worry so much. The door swung open and he was greeted with her sunshine yellow hair and sweet voice. "Home sweet home," she softly said, apparently to herself.
Morty opened his mouth to say something but quickly shut it as his noticed the figure standing behind her.
Beth stopped in her tracks when she noticed her son waiting in the living room. Obviously caught off guard, she stuttered slightly before saying in a hushed voice, "Morty, baby, what're you doing up?" She moved from the doorway and stood to the side to allow her guest entry- giving Morty a clear look at the stranger in his home.
It was just a boy-no, a teenager- who couldn't be any older than Morty. Dirty, disheveled, and bearing a glare capable of cutting through glass; this kid looked like a problem just waiting to happen. Morty glanced down at the boy's clothes, they were raggedy and covered with filth. It made him think this guy had gone clothes shopping in a dumpster. He was carrying a hefty backpack and accompanying suitcase, making Morty even more suspicious of his presence. When Morty looked up at his face, he was met with steel blue eyes staring back at him with a look of pure indifference. He managed to tear his eyes from the pools of cobalt and laid them on his mother, shooting her a glare of his own.
"What am I doing up? What are you doing up?? W-Where have you been? Its almost m-midnight!" He decided to save his questions about the dirty stranger in their house and opted for chewing out his mother, fair payback for making him deal with putting the kids to bed. She shot him a stern look only a mother could wield, a silent understanding of saying Who the hell do you think you're talking to?
"I was working Morty. I called Summer explaining I'd be late." She raised an eyebrow at her fuming son, not understanding why he was pestering her.
Morty cursed, Of course, Summer didn't tell him anything. Sometimes she could be so unreliable. He mentally kicked himself at catching an attitude with his mom when she hadn't done anything wrong to begin with.
Instead of apologizing, he settled on changing the subject to the obvious elephant in the room. He gestured to their "guest"-who was now awkwardly standing there watching the mother and son bicker- and raised a questioning brow at Beth. "Okay, you wanna explain him then?"
Beth glanced at her company and sent him a reassuring smile. She place a gentle hand on his shoulder and looked back at her son. "Morty, this is Ricky." She spoke slowly and calmly, gauging Morty's reaction. "He'll be staying with us for a few days." Beth looked back at the boy, who was now called Ricky, and grinned, trying to make him feel a little less uncomfortable with being in an unfamiliar house.
Morty was silent for a moment, thoughts running rampant through his head. Another one? His mother wanted to house another kid? Did she have any idea how uncontrollable the already full house of kids was?? He couldn't bear to feed another mouth, wash another ass, enforce even more rules on little brats who would break every single one. And not to mention how much trouble this kid looked to be. He contemplated a moment, trying to figure out a counterpoint against this unwanted houseguest.
Morty crossed his arms and matter-of-factly stated to his mother, "W-We dont have any spare beds. All the rooms in the boys' dorm are- are taken."
Without missing a beat, Beth smirked and shot back a snarky remark. "Don't you have an extra bed in your room? He'll stay there."
Morty jerked back and stared at his mom with wide emerald eyes. "W-Wha- No! Th-Th-That's my room! No f-fair I earned my own space!" He quickly resorted back to his whiny state whenever his mom refused to comply with him. He was, at heart, a full blown momma's boy and acted as such when things don't go his way.
Beth, used to her son acting like this, disregarded his tantrum and threw her hands up. "Oh, Morty you're being ridiculous. Ricky is staying here and that's settled. Don't be so selfish, it's not like you're using that other bed." She picked up Ricky's small suitcase and shoved it into Morty's hands. "Now be a dear and show our guest to his bed. He really needs to rest."
Beth turned back to Ricky and smiled, which the spikey headed punk smirk back at her. He seemed clearly entertained by Beth's blatant show of authority. She patted Ricky's back softly, "We'll get you a nice breakfast and a shower in the morning, sound good?" He nodded and she turned back to Morty shooting him a hard look telling him to Be nice. She gave them both a soft Goodnight and retired to her room, leaving the two alone in the tense air of the situation she'd left behind for them to deal with.
Morty turned back to his new roommate, already feeling extremely awkward and intimidated just by Ricky's presence. "Uh, follow me, I-I guess.." He clutched the others suitcase in his hand and lead him up the stairs. "I-I-I'm Morty by the way."
Heavy footsteps followed him up, making Morty feel slightly uncomfortable having someone aggressive and scary so close behind him.
"Yeah I kinda figured that out already," the gruff, deep voice mumbled, clearly disinterested in what Morty had to say. Of course, Morty figured, he has the voice of a murderer too.
He rolled his eyes at the rude comment and continued walking down the hall to his room. He stopped at his door and turned to Ricky, "Just... try not to make a mess." Morty felt eyes burning holes in the back of his skull as he faced away and entered his room.
The bedroom was laid out just like any other in the orphanage; typically set up to house two people. Beds lay on either side of the room along with separate nightstands and dressers. He set the luggage he was carrying next to the unused bed and faced Ricky once more. "If you want any extra pillows or blankets you can find them out in the hall closet," he spoke almost mechanically, repeating the same boring script everytime they had a new resident staying with them.
He moved to his side of the room and widely gestured to everything he owned, "Please refrain from touching anything on this side, you can do whatever the hell you want with whatever's on your side. J-Just.. not anything over here." He watched as Ricky peeled his backpack from his body and tossed it carelessly on the floor next to his suitcase. He flopped down onto the bed and let out a grateful sigh, stretching out his long limbs with almost cat-like movements.
Morty smiled slightly at the appreciative noises coming from the other bed. Ricky made it seem like sleeping on that dusty old mattress was the best thing to ever happen to him. Morty felt his heart twinge.
What if it was?
Judging from Ricky's appearance, it looked like the kid hadn't slept in weeks. He definitely looked worse for the wear and it made Morty wonder where Beth had even come across him. If he was out in the dirty parts of the city than there's no telling what shit Ricky's been though. That area was known for high crime, homelessness, drug rings, and cheap prostitutes. Maybe Mom picked him up off the streets.. Morty thought to himself. She would be the one to come across a scruffy looking homeless boy and immediately offer him a home. Morty stripped off the apron he still wore from eariler and tossed it aside, climbing into bed and silently thanked God to finally be off his feet.
Within seconds his body began blissfully sinking into the depth of slumber, and as he drifted off to sleep, a thought found its way into is head:
At least Ricky's off the streets and safe.