Breaking the habit

He cringed visibly as he heard his father in the other room yelling blindly to himself, their mother had left a couple of hours ago, leaving them with him, and he was certain he hadn't fully realized yet that she was even gone. He hated when she was gone, when they were stuck home alone with their father and his shouting and barking, he did his best to keep to himself and to his own devices when it happened, and always tended to gravitate towards Zan as well. The two were tight, and leaned on each other when things got like this for support.

He flinched again when he heard the crash in the kitchen, muttering softly to Zan, "I think he just made a huge mess..." A mess he would no doubt try and force his sister to clean up. He knew her well enough to know that she would refuse, and his 9 year old brain was already running through possible solutions and scenarios that he could enact to prevent her from having to suffer his wrath. He didn't entirely trust their dad in this state to not hurt her, and he wasn't going to let that happen.

He glanced up when he heard the glass shatter, the yelling on the phone, and the footsteps heading their way. He tried to to flinch when the man came in and barked at them, looking up at him, "no sir, we..I didn't hear you call us." He half-lied, trying to shake the man off of them, "do uh...Do you need something, sir?" He looked up at him with a questioning gaze, knowing full well what he wanted but playing dumb anyway.

He didn't flinch this time when the man barked, but didn't meet his eyes either, by now he was used to this, to being barked at, "I'm sorry, sir." He couldn't excuse away his lack of a response this time, instead opting to not say anything at all on the subject, he switched gears soon anyway, and Z looked up when he saw him addressing his sister. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand when their father picked her up like that, giving on a vague nod of understanding when he ordered him to straighten up the bedroom, watching them leave while running through what he needed to do in his head.

He listened close until he heard the man go back to watching television before getting to his feet and slipping quiet as ever into the kitchen, giving Zan a gentle nudge and putting a finger over his lips to indicate that she be quiet, "listen. You go back into the bedroom, okay? I'll take care of this." His eyes pleaded for her to listen, "just...straighten up the room...Then hide. Just in case." He offered her a brave smile, giving a gentle nudge, "do this for me, okay?" He waited until she was safely in their bedroom before breathing a soft sigh and getting to work.

Their dad had made a nasty mess in his drunken stupor, and it took a moment for Z to get the cleaning supplied out of their respective places before he got to work, stealing nervous glances towards the livingroom as he knelt to scrub at the floor.

His work on the kitchen was halted a moment as he listened closely to his voice as he spoke on the phone, feeling a thrill of fear at the thread and that laughter. He swallowed hard and kept going, ignoring his calls, ignoring everything, just trying to get the job done so he could try and talk his father down from the drunken rage he was quickly working himself up into. His breathing quickened when he heard him travelling to their bedroom, going quiet long enough to hear him speaking softly to his sister, before he flinched at his name being called. Ignore him. He told himself this, if he ignored him he would draw him away from their bedroom and away from Zaniah, that was all he wanted, he wanted him to get away from his sister.

So he didn't answer, he set his eyes determined and herd on the task at hand, beginning to put away all of the cleaning equipment before he fetched a broom and dustpan to go take care of the glass that had shattered. He didn't know what his father was capable of in this state, but his need to protect Zan from his wrath outweighed his fear for his own safety, ignoring the man right now was the stupidest thing he'd ever done.

He did flinch however, when his full name was called, but he still didn't stop doing what he was doing. He heard his heavy footsteps returning, trying to keep his focus on the task until he managed to clean up the mess Altair had made, finally acknowledging the man when he spoke, "I didn't want her to cut herself on the glass." He said simply, not meeting the man's eyes as he tried to hide the angry look hearing him shout at his sister like that, he knew it was less about him cleaning to the man and more about his weird, screwy ideals, which became apparent when the man purposefully dropped the bowl of gravy onto the floor and demanded he make her clean it up.

He had a lot of options right now, a lot of things crossed his mind, and not a single one involved ordering her to do what their father wished for her to. Finally, he turned a stern look on her, "Zan. Go back to our room. Now." His eyes were turned away from their father, and his expression shifted to a plea for her to listen, before he turned to the man with all the defiance that a frightened 9 year old could muster, moving with purpose to grab the mop with the intention of cleaning it up himself. He was deaf to the man's complaints about his family, single minded in his purpose and driven by a refusal to command his sister the way his father commanded their mother. He wouldn't become that.

Most of the time he loved how stubborn and fiery his sister was, he loved her spirit and her refusal to stand down and let herself be pushed around. But right now he'd been begging her to listen, if not to her father then to him, because he could tell the man was on the edge, and he didn't want her to catch the worst of it. He turned his gaze away as the man spoke to her, giving her an ultimatum that Z already knew her answer to, she wouldn't do it, there was no way she would, and he was as thankful for this as he was afraid. He only hoped the man's terrible world view kept him from hurting her.

He looked up when he saw him take her ear, feeling the hairs on his neck bristle again as he followed them into the bedroom, "leave her alone!" His protective nature momentarily canceled out his fear of this man, and he looked incredibly alarmed when he locked her into the closet, "Let her out!" He had a demanding shout to his voice now as he came at the man, attempting to shove him and get into his pocket so that he could get the key from him. He was not about to have his sister locked away in a cupboard, "Let her out now!" He glared up at him with a defiant anger, the most fire he could muster at his age and size.

He flinched at the sound of his fist against the wood, noticing the quiet but knowing that it was probably less out of fear and more out of defiant stubborn fight, he was glad for it, and glad that at least in there she was safe. But he still wanted her out of the closet and out of the dark, she didn't belong in there, "you don't touch her like that!" He tried to make his voice as big as he could, despite his fear, despite his worry over the consequences, he needed him to know he couldn't hurt his sister while he was still standing.

He yelped as he was shoved hard to the ground, staring up at him with wide, confused eyes as he tossed down the key, he immediately scrambled for it, feeling a hiss of frustration when he kicked it away. But he was determined, and distracted as he went to grab it again, not noticing him pulling off his belt, not noticing the man's actions at all until it was too late to even react.

He let out a pained cry when he felt the leather of the belt snap against his back, crumpling a little, but still defiant enough to pick up the key, hanging onto it close, "this is y-your fault!" He shouted, "you're so evil! You're evil!" He turned and glared up at him with hateful eyes, daring the man to hit him again, convinced he wouldn't do it.

He had his back turned to his father, small hands gripping the key so tight his knuckles were white, he refused to give him the control to decide when she would be allowed her freedom, he refused to let go of the key for anything. His eyes were wide, concealed by his turned back, he was glad that his father couldn't see the panic in them, or the tears streaming down his face as he struggled to catch his breath between the pain and the panic.

He only let out another pained cry when he was hit again, and again, bracing himself against the heavy handed blows against him as he kept his grip tightly on the key. He refused to beg for him to stop, staring with his wide eyes fixed on one spot on the floor in front of him. He was shaking by now, beginning to lose his resolve and his courage, he would get tired of this eventually, he would stumble off and pass out and he would let his sister out and they would hide until their mother got home.

He turned his panicked glare on the man again, breathing hard to try and fight off the pain, "I'm not giving you this key!" He swallowed hard, swallowed down the sick rising in his stomach.