Work Text:
Oneshot - No more closed doors
Warning: Anguish / Escape / Marilyn / Abuse / Ebenezer
Birds can travel great distances. They can cross countries and, in some cases, continents. They are free to do so... but they take a few minutes out of their day to greet Billy through his narrow window.
They have seen far beyond what Billy believes he will ever see in his future.
Can you keep a secret? Billy has shared it with the birds because they cannot tell anyone else...
He and his mother lived in his uncle Ebenezer's house.
This is one of the many rules that governed their home.
This is how they have lived for the last four years, since his father, CC Batson, and his sister passed away.
Fifth rule, Don't talk about those who are no longer here.
So, there is not much to say, and that's bad.
His mother has broken this rule many times. The boy knows it is dangerous not to follow these rules.
But thanks to this... he can remember them with the love they deserve.
He can dream that he was not present at their funeral. He can imagine that they simply went far away for some reason, but they will come back, and they will return to their beautiful home... He can wish his mother had never married his uncle...
"Don't speak out loud, Billy. You must call him sir," she says in a soft voice.
Fourth rule, don't forget respect.
He is no longer the uncle. He will never be the father. But he must be called with respect... because this is his house.
"I'm sorry, mom." Billy hugs his mother.
"Billy, my love... You need to be careful... You think out loud..."
She never denies him a hug, even now when she reminds him of the third rule...
"Have you finished your homework?"
The hand that ruffles his hair escapes as quickly as it arrives. Her hands are a bit coarse now; they have lost their softness, but they never lose their warmth when they hug him...
Her brown hair, always loose, is now tied in a low bun with a red ribbon. There are more things that have changed about her. Her long mane now has scattered gray hairs, and some lines of expression have deepened on her face. But despite all this, she remains a beautiful woman, and Billy firmly believes so.
"Yes, mom. I started early. Do you want to take a look?"
"Give me five minutes, I'm almost done cooking. Use the time and take a shower."
The sound of the knife chopping vegetables harmonizes with the younger one's steps. Billy doesn't think about disobeying his mother... And this is a good time for a bath.
"I'll hurry."
Billy doesn't think much about the appearance of the house he walks through every day. He doesn't think about the locked front door. Maybe he does think about the creaking stairs he steps on as he heads to the bathroom... They all have a similar melody, thanks to the moisture and wear. It would be a melody if he could make some steps have a higher-pitched tone and others a lower-pitched one.
But if he truly had the power... he would really wish they made no sound at all because it makes it very difficult to follow the third rule:
Don't make annoying noises.
There is only one bathroom on the second floor, right between the master bedroom and his own at the end of the hallway.
Speaking of the latter, Billy doesn't think much about how inside
├────────🚪───────ı
When life gives you lemons... People use that expression a lot. Marilyn Batson loved reading mysteries and solving crosswords. Reflecting on how she had reached this point, where she counted every minute, only brought her an overwhelming sense of guilt...
She kissed the crown of her child's head. Her son would soon turn eight years old. Time passed so quickly, she thought, and that only made it crueler.
Cruel like the fact that she hadn't visited her husband's and daughter's graves in so long.
Cruel for not being able to talk about it.
Cruel for being there...
Cruel for...
"Mommy?"
But she was grateful that this was enough to keep him from insisting on leaving the house... at least she could give him this...
It was cruel, but at least she could give her son this.
"Did I ever tell you about the time we got stranded in Egypt and ended up in Kahndaq because we took the wrong connecting flight?"
"Yes! And you had to send a letter to the embassy through two nomads riding camels!"
The young one's laughter took they hundreds of kilometers away from that room. It guided they as she walked along the sidewalk in front of that house. It carried her down the road. It accompanied her to the airport... And it just let her fly.
"But years later, those nomads reached out to tell us about a cave in Kahndaq. They said the cave had mystical carvings about an ancient guardian of their people. I think we had some photos, but they were lost during the move..."
"The move..."
It's the explanation for many things... Her son can understand it now, which is why he no longer asks and just looks at the closed door next to the kitchen, the only entrance to the basement.
The move.
Four years ago...
The move.
After the death of C.C. and Mary...
The move.
The term they used to refer to everything Ebenezer had confiscated and stored under the house for "everyone's safety"...
She curses him under her breath. It's not true safety for everyone when one person acts as both judge and executioner, wielding all the power and silencing every dissenting voice.
The worried look she receives from her child is enough to push that bubbling anger to the back of her mind again. Billy deserves the best, even in this situation; he is the priority here.
"They were two perfectly carved lightning bolts in the dark stone. We thought the slight erosion was due to the iron mineral, but..."
But the logical side refuses to leave without listing the restricted items. It's completely reasonable if you know what's behind a door. What was there? So close and yet so far... Important documents. Photos. Memories of their travels as archaeologists. Their old books. Billy's toys. Mary's dresses. C.C.'s wardrobe...
The antique china inherited from her mother.
The Batson grandmother's recipes were the only thing he agreed to bring from the move after the basement was sealed. Her mind escaped again...
The mother of the two brothers had taught her to cook. That kind woman had taken her time to teach her each of the recipes. Italian, Latin, French, and English influences had combined over the years in her vast collection. It was hard to remember them all in detail.
But that man refuses to forget the taste of that mother´s cooking...
She doesn't want to think that this was the only reason they were there.
She doesn't want to think about unpleasant things that went beyond that thought.
But one of the many universal constants in the new world that drowns them is that a delicious dinner wouldn't restrict the other...
Marilyn caught her son's attention with a hug. She looked at the clock; they still had time...
Just two hours... but it was more than they regularly had without Ebenezer.
She would make the most of every minute to take him as far as she could with every word.
Every word.
Every word.
Every word.
"Your birthday is coming soon. Have you thought about what you want to eat?"
"Everything you make is delicious, mom. I'll be happy with anything."
"No, young man. This time I want you to tell me..."
"A cake..."
Like his son, she could see the surprise in his eyes, tinged with a trace of guilt for asking for something so elaborate. Her heart ached, but she quickly resolved to make his wish come true. She didn’t say it aloud—there was no need to burden him—but she knew it would only take skipping a little of her own meals to gather enough ingredients. It was a small price to pay for his happiness.
"Yes, it's possible, love. He won't notice."
She tries to say it with certainty and confidence.
├────────🚪───────ı
There was no more time.
Billy!, she thought immediately as the key turned in the lock.
Barely awake, she combed his hair and shook both their clothes the best she could.
"Welcome, Ebenezer."
"Welcome, sir."
The man stared at them both for long moments.
He looked at their shoes.
He looked at their clothes and he looked at their hair.
Maybe everything was fine, she thought, when he turned his back and locked the front door.
Two clicks. He had turned the key twice.
"Serve the food, Marilyn. I'm hungry."
"Yes, Ebenezer. Billy, set the table."
Her voice was no longer hers.
Her son was no longer who he used to be.
Billy slipped away like a ghost into the kitchen, making no uncomfortable noise. She wanted to follow him and watch how he gracefully avoided every creaky board.
But there was much to say and few suitable words.
She had two orange envelopes on the hall table.
She had two white envelopes on top of them.
And she had to ask for something just for herself...
├────────🚪───────ı
The murmurs at the entrance didn’t stop him from opening the drawers to take out the plates, but they didn’t compel him to take out the spoons. It was a bad idea to eavesdrop...
"...Today."
And then everything went silent. A loud crash echoed through the house. The smallest one stood at the edge of the kitchen entrance without realizing it... His feet disobeyed his head.
First rule...
No matter what you see, don't get closer or it will be worse. That’s what his head kept repeating to his heart.
But his head knew very well that Billy only listened to his heart.
Ebenezer shouted so fast that many of his words collided with each other, making it impossible for the blue-eyed child to understand the reason for his anger.
However, he never backed away from the kitchen doorframe and opened his mouth to do the only thing he could if once again...
If once again...
If the monster...
If he dared to...
...
...
Something different happened today.
Ebenezer staggered and grabbed his heart tightly...
His mother, leaning against the wall, looked at him... and her left hand, raised, stopped any action. Stay there.
That had never stopped him before... But her eyes reflected a mix of astonishment and something else—something between disbelief and a glimmer of hope that Billy had never seen before...
His mother held her gaze on the man collapsing near the door...
Almost...
Almost...
Almost like...
"Zero..."
Oh.
Oh.
Billy curled up and hugged his legs.
"One..."
Billy held his breath.
"Two..."
Billy's mother stood up, leaning against the wall.
"Three."
Ebenezer fell onto the old carpet at her feet and tried to reach the woman's shoe.
"Four."
Marilyn rushed to hug her son to her chest.
"Five."
Billy hugged his mother, and she returned the tight embrace.
She never stopped counting.
"Six."
Ebenezer stopped moving.
"Seven."
Marilyn began to cry.
"Eight."
Billy didn’t want to, but he fell asleep in his mother’s arms.
├───────────────ı
"Fourteen."
The police sirens woke the youngest.
Something was wrong! Why was he outside the house?!
His uncle would get angry!
He would get angry at him and his mom!
"Mom, we need to...!"
His mother's unmistakable hands intertwined with his.
"It's over... now everything will be fine... Everything..."
She was trembling. She was crying.
Through the patrol car window, Billy doubted whether that faded house a few meters away had truly been his home until now... It was smaller than he remembered.
It seemed much smaller...
And...
And now it was open to everyone...
"Is it over?" The words burst from his mouth. They didn’t feel real.
"Yes... it's over..." His mother's words, though whispered, never lost their weight and authenticity.
A policeman standing by the window greeted them with a simple gesture. Billy curled up in his safe spot.
In the neighborhood, no one knew that a woman and a child lived in that house.
In the news, a small note told the story of the Batsons.
A sad story of a mother forced to marry her brother-in-law to protect her son... The story of a terrible man that human justice couldn't catch... The story of the victory of two young survivors.
├───────────────ı
"Mom... Will you be okay?"
"Yes... it's just the flu... The doctors don't want Mom to infect others... that's why Mom has to stay in the hospital for a while..."
"Can I stay with you?"
"I'm sorry, my little one... not this time..."
A kiss on his hand was all he could get. The nurses quickly pulled him away when the heart monitor began to go haywire.
"I don't want to leave... please... Mom..."
The door to his mother's room was shut, and Billy was helpless behind it...
"MOM!"
├───────────────ı
Foster homes... He hated every single one of them. Each family distanced him from his mother.
With pain, he has to remember how he had to escape from each of them just to see his mother.
There were only four... in the hospital.
And one... one in a coffin.
His mind whispers many "what ifs," but he knows it’s dangerous to listen to his thoughts... Everything was painful, as painful as those closed doors.
Billy holds a white rose weakly as he begs his mother to come back... to come back and fulfill her promise that everything was going to be okay.
He wants her to come back... But something noble is born in his heart, even in moments of adversity and pain like these. His heart whispers that now she can watch over his father and sister in heaven... His heart promises something... His heart has been nurtured with love, kindness, faith, strength, courage.
That's why he didn’t run away anymore.
And he knows it's his mother watching over him when the social worker introduces him to someone new.
His mother managed to contact an old friend before she died...
Uncle Dudley. A very distant and kind relative.
It takes a few months, but Billy decides to trust his mother’s decision...
And she was right.
His new uncle never locked the doors of his house, and when he did, he made sure to give Billy a key.
The doors of his therapist's office were always slightly open when he arrived and stayed that way until he left.
He's lost count of how many times he’s gone out into the street in the middle of the night just to check that he could leave...
He still struggles with tight spaces or closed rooms. His therapist says he’s improved a lot for a nine-year-old...
His keychain is quite heavy to carry, but he never lets it go.
He has the power...
However, it doesn’t seem to be enough...
Because the only door he wanted to open was the one to the basement...
They were in the same city, but he hadn’t returned to that place since the day they left...
The house of that evil man...
The house of creaking wood...
His house.
That’s what a police officer had said... The house belonged to him, according to the state, as well as everything in it.
His new uncle never pressured him to do anything with that house, and he greatly appreciated it.
He greatly appreciated that his uncle accompanied him to that place... Even though he didn’t want to go in the first time, nor the second, nor the fifth...
But with courage, on the sixth attempt... The door opened...
A terrible smell wafted out as it opened. His new uncle made him step outside to rest for a while before going down...
There was no light to illuminate all the secrets kept for years. But a flashlight did something equally powerful.
Many stacked boxes. Mary’s old dismantled bed... His father’s old books in a corner, completely dusty and poorly stacked.
More boxes with his and his mother’s names on them...
A horrible coat rack...
A dark vase...
More boxes belonging to his mother...
And there...
At the bottom...
Behind the stairs...
A small nightstand...
The wood had swelled and couldn’t be opened...
They managed to bring it to the house's yard. There was only one way to open it.
The tired man held an axe.
Billy closed his eyes as the sound of wood breaking spread across the yard.
With the lid torn off, he only had to approach to see it. This was the simplest step, but it seemed the most difficult. It took a couple of minutes to gather some extra courage.
And there they were...
Half of his locket and his mother’s wedding ring...
Uncle Dudley hugged Billy for what he assumed were hours.
Everything was inside!
He hadn’t lost it!
Billy cried.
Billy cried.
Billy wanted his mother to cry with him...
The move... the move... everything... Everything was over.
No more closed doors.
├───────────────ı
He entered the cave because there were no closed doors whispering his confinement.
He approached the elder because the only one he feared was Ebenezer.
He accepted the powers because he wanted to keep doing good...
That good, which Uncle Dudley assured was responsible for saving them from their captivity... That good that led to justice for Ebenezer's death, and that good which so many others desperately needed.
After all...
Good must be done so that good can endure.