Chapter Text
Sunday marks the beginning of Thanksgiving week across the nation as a large family in a small town of Little Hope awakens for the day. Some more easily than others.
Dennis, the night owl he is, didn't particularly get up easy. He didn't like waking up in the mornings. He especially didn't like to have to wake extra early on Sundays. Regardless, he gets up when his Sunday alarm in the form of the wonderful aroma of bacon slightly tarnished by another argument drifting up the stairs.
"Kids!" Anne yells up the staircase. "Breakfast is ready!"
And that announcement is all the motivation Dennis needed to ready up at full speed and then some.
As he gets to the door he notices something peculiar. Anthony is still lying down and hasn't made any moves to get out of bed.
Dennis' furrows his brows at this uncharacteristic behavior. Because unlike the night owl that is Dennis, Anthony is an any time type of person. Meaning he can go between staying up all night with Dennis or rising alongside the sun to get a headstart on chores or just sits at their shared desk reading or writing.
Sparring a second of courtesy, Dennis goes over to tap on Anthony's shoulder.
"Hey, Princess Aurora," he says playfully, "better get your ass up and ready before mom brings a tizzy up here."
Anthony groans into his pillow but doesn't move. Dennis couldn't show any care as he rushes to the bathroom to take care of his business, brush his teeth, wash his face, and fixes his hair before flying down the stairs almost knocking over an irate Tanya while making a beeline for the kitchen.
Usually breakfast is served and eaten on the kitchen table, but in the Clarke household there's no point on Sundays. Something's always wrong and rarely is it smooth sailing for everyone as most, if not all, the family members glide from one room to another to get ready or rectify a mishap.
On the same note, the Clarke family politics have taken an uneven tip in the scale. Without Anthony who serves as a medium of sorts born naturally with his XY chromosomes and yet thinks more like his mother and sister, Megan decides to step in as the deciding fifth. Not exactly a good diplomatic candidate with the child's lack of experience and her tendency to favor the women's side, faults and everything.
Anne brought an end to the current verbal chaos by finally noticing the absence of the third Clarke child. As Dennis informs them that Anthony was still in bed last time he checked, Megan, not so sly nor as stealthy as a fox, attempts to take Anthony's breakfast for herself. Dennis and Anne shielded the defenseless food with their hands and arms like a set of protective bars from said mischievous child. As Megan is getting scolded at by their father James, Dennis is sent upstairs to go check on Anthony, he does so but begrudgingly.
With a half eaten egg and bacon sandwich hanging out of his mouth Dennis absentmindedly knocks on their shared bedroom door...but is surprised to find it wide open and Anthony nowhere to be seen.
"Anthony?" a quizzical Dennis takes the sandwich out of his mouth. He looks around the dark room as if the teen was hiding in the shadows like a boogeyman figure.
"Anthony?" he calls again, this time getting an answer from series of coughs followed by retching that found it's way through the walls reaching their bedroom.
Quirking a brow, Dennis pockets the rest of his sandwich and makes the short trek down the hall.
"Anthony? Anthony!"
Dennis rushes to his adoptive brother's side whose head was practically in the toilet bowl as he heaves. Anthony's hair was gathered and pulled back as more gagging led to more vomiting. One hand kept Anthony's blond hair back while another rubbed soothing circles on his back.
When the heaves finally stop and a panting Anthony rests his temple against the toilet seat, Dennis asks, "You okay?"
Anthony chuckles humorlessly, "Great! I feel so energized I can take on Superman." Groaning in pain, he rubs his forehead into his palm. "Choked on fucking phlegm."
"Grody," Dennis reaches down to haul Anthony up by the torso, "come on, let's get you back in bed. I'll tell mom and dad you'll be staying home today."
A whimper and nod was the given response. After flushing the toilet and rinsing his mouth out, Anthony allowed himself to be led back into their shared bedroom. Once situated back in bed a hand checks the temperature on his forehead slides down the side of his face and lingers on the jawline before being left alone in the dark room.
Upon flying down the stairs like a hellbat on a mission Dennis reenters the bottom floor environment to a shrilled panic. He sighs to himself wondering what Megan has done this time.
"Megan! We just bought this dress for you!"
Question answered.
Dennis pokes his head in the kitchen to scout the situation before making the right move to help.
Megan stood nervously next to the kitchen island, a long tear ran down the side of the red and white plaid of a short-sleeved dress. His mother, Anne Clarke, set aside a half-peeled potato briefly rinses her hands then rushes to Megan. The child is sat on a bar stool as their mom examines the damage in dismay.
"How do you always manage to do this with all your clothes? If it isn't holes it's dirt or paint." She spies Dennis in the doorway. She points at him, "Go find me my sewing kit, will you please?" Tanya walks in from the living room with 'excellent' timing. "You," the eldest gets pointed at as well, "can you take over peeling the vegetables while I fix the tear in Megan's dress?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Tanya slumps dramatic display of displeasure that keeps her from rolling her eyes. "Yes, mom."
They both proceed with their individual tasks. When Dennis comes back and hands over the purple flowery kit he tried to interject Anthony's situation to their mother. None of his words could get through to her as she scolded Megan who complains in defense of an old nail sticking out of the kitchen table catching onto her clothes. Despite this, Dennis kept persisting. Trying to pull his mother's attention while she is very much occupied with fixing the damaged clothing.
"Dennis! Please!" Anne snaps. "Whatever it is can wait! I need to focus! Why don't you be useful and help Tanya with peeling the vegetables for the roast?"
Dennis sighs as he gets to work as he's told. Tanya side-eyes him but says nothing as they set aside the peeled vegetables. Dennis asks how much of the spices were on the roast and adds the rest what was needed.
When Anne finishes the stitch with expert precision and sends Megan off, Tanya approaches.
"By the way, I'm not coming home for supper, mom. A co-worker called in sick so I have to cover for her."
"Oh, the poor dear. We should make some chicken soup and run it by-Dennis! You put that Dr. Pepper back this instant!" "Not old enough to drink, ma!" The can snaps open. "It's just a sip then I'll put it back!"
Anne shakes her head in disappointment.
As their conversation goes on with Tanya saying her boyfriend Vince will pick her up early from church and Anne going on about Tanya missing Pastor Carver's 'informative' preaching, Dennis has a moment of stupidity thinking he could balance the can on the edge of the dutch oven holding the roast as he's seasoning it. The Dr. Pepper predictably falls onto the roast, the contents spilled over the meat in quick bubbling succession mixing in with the red wine at the base of the pan. Dennis gingerly picks up the now mostly empty can, a sinking feeling settling in the pit of his stomach.
Dennis catches his mother turning back in his peripherals and suddenly chugs (without his mouth touching the can) down the rest of the remaining Dr. Pepper. He made an overly dramatic noise of satisfaction throws the can away and pretends to not notice the glare his mother sends his way, nor did he acknowledge the frosty claws the glare summons to crawl up his spinal colomn.
It wasn't until the roast was shoved in the oven, a brief investigation of finding an orange tie (that everyone begged James not to wear), and Megan dropping her heavy coat on Dennis's head over the stairs, that the opportunity presented itself. Checking over the damage done to his hair in the hallway mirror, Anne comes down the stairs herself dressed in a flowery lavender gown, her hair done up in the usual bun with faux diamond pins and a thick coat hung elegantly over her forearm.
"Hey, mom?" He catches her attention at he base of the stairs. "As we are enjoying the unicorn that is a moment peace in the household, I need to tell you something."
Anne gives him a patient ear as Dennis brings up Anthony. Just as he does so said teenager is slugging his way down the stairs dressed in a yellow button up, tan slacks, and a several stragglers on his head sticking up at random.
"Anthony," Anne chides him gently, "you missed a few." She says in reference to her son's hair. She licks her hand than smooths it over the stubborn strands he missed, disgusting both the boys. "Now Dennis, what was it about Anthony you were about to tell me?"
Dennis glances away from his mother's face to Anthony's. Aside from looking a bit tired, one couldn't tell he'd been puking just ten minutes ago.
Dennis improvises a loaded excuse in how he wants to take his dear brother on the road with him during his band's next gig. How Anthony misses him when he's gone. Wants to see his older brother perform live with an audience. He's not finished with schooling so evidently he'd need his absences excused.
Anne ate up the lie with an amused scoff and gives her blessing before waltzing back into the kitchen.
Dennis didn't speak until she was out of the room. He turns his worry over to Anthony. "Are you sure you're well enough to go to church?"
"There's a lot of pressure," Anthony says, "and I'd rather be in bed right now, but two hours out and about won't kill me."
Dennis sighs, folding his arms over his chest, "Well, if you insist."
Anne returns to the boys with a paper bag and hands it over to Anthony. "Here's your breakfast, honey. You can eat on the way to church. I even packed you a Dr. Pepper." A flabbergasted Dennis glares at his unsuspecting mother's back. "Are you feeling alright this morning?"
"Woke up with a headache," Anthony responds, "nothing that painkillers can't help with, hopefully."
"Hopefully indeed," she gives him a loving pat on the cheek. "Cold and flu season is upon us and it's already taken Tanya's colleague. I want you boys to be careful, alright?" She shrugs her coat on. "Let's get going, shall we?"
On the way to church, Anthony had forced himself to eat all of his breakfast sandwich so Megan wouldn't fight him over it, the Dr. Pepper didn't do his sinuses any favors and tasted oddly flat (something he attributed to his taste buds not being fully awake yet) despite the onslaught of bubbles he felt on his tongue and throat. Either the painkillers they had weren't as effective as they should be or the headache is excruciating to the point of overriding the pills.
Forty minutes into service and Anthony couldn't focus. No wisdom nor value of any kind could be absorbed in his foggy brain. Inside the church isn't as warm as their home, not as bad as the outside, yet even with keeping his own coat buttoned up it felt like death's icy hands were roaming all over his body. The artificial lights in the sanctuary was almost too much leaving him to keep his eyes closed during a good portion of the service.
Dennis sat beside the second youngest Clarke to keep an eye on him, but also because they were very comfortable with each other in public. He didn't pay as much attention to Pastor Carver preaching as he did with Anthony. On the usual Sunday, Dennis would only half pay attention to the lectures. Everything Carver drones about are either only partially true or pure bull. If there were any other churches in Little Hope teaching how it is instead of what is 'thought' to be about the Bible's lessons Dennis would be insisting they'd go there instead.
However, the Clarke family is stuck going to this one. With an attentive Anne, impressionable Megan, a dismissive James, and rebellious Tanya all as listed in the pew to Dennis's right, Dennis took care to comfort Anthony with an arm over shaking shoulders or the occasional hand to the thigh.
Anthony seemed to grow warmer by the minute. The phlegm in his throat threatened to make a scene in the middle of service as it lingers in search for an opening. Dennis notices how Anthony made hollow coughs inside of his coat, smartly keeping quietly, and wishes the morning would be over already for Anthony's sake.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the church," Carver booms in the sanctuary, "I'd like to call up a few families up to the podium this morning. To acknowledge their dedication of faith, their persistence in spreading the word, and refusal to back down in the face of hardships. First, and foremost, the Clarke family! Come on up here!"
Of course Carver would bring the entire congregation's attention on them right this minute.
You'd think Anne just won an award from the look of excitement on her face. Excitement that she immediately got a grip on and rises with all the professionalism a Christian mother can hold.
One-by-one the Clarke family gets on their feet to join Pastor Carver in front of the podium. In their steady pace, Anthony lethargically follows suit.
Just as another family was announced behind the Clarkes, Anthony lost stability in his legs for a second. But a second was all it took for his foot to catch onto a support under the pew and tumbles into the middle aisle with a chorus of gasps and shouts around him.
"Anthony!" Dennis rushes back over in his panic kneeling to check him over. The rest of the family huddles over them.
Anthony doesn't respond much to the touches or the worries about him. The fall left his body aching and worsens from the cold hard floor. The fact he's lying down at all eases the pressure in his head; a delusion forms in his mind that even with all the pains and the lack of heat, he could possibly sleep there if given the option.
"Come on, Anthony," Dennis managed to turn him over and lightly taps at his, Anthony's, rosy cheek. "Come on, man. You gotta get up."
"It appears," Carver starts in his grandeur, "that young Anthony Clarke has comeover an affliction. The call into God's spotlight has overwhelmed the sins of his heart!"
Dennis wrinkles his nose but does his best to ignore it as he checks an arm for any bruising.
"Let us gather over to pray for him. James 5:15 states "And the prayer of faith will save the one who is sick, and the Lord will raise him up. And if he has committed sins, he will be forgiven.". Prayer and forgiveness are essential to the path of righteousness. Righteousness, everyone must strive..." he looks pointedly at Anthony's unmoving form, "but may not be ready for."
The rest of the family notices that Dennis isn't examining the barely lucid Anthony anymore.
"Let this be an example for all of you, to take caution into what you feed your minds. Dabbling with knowledge of the wicked. Opening your hearts to the evils of the world."
With flared nostrils and heavy breathing, Tanya and Megan glance to each other with wide eyes before sharing the look with their parents. All four of them knew what was coming. An oncoming emotional freight train with no breaks.
Anne tried to swerve the point of topic to focus solely on Anthony's overall health but if seems to only provoke Pastor Carver further, "All the more reason for us to pray out the demons and hinder the temptation, Mrs. Clarke. If we allow one of our congregation to divulge into heresy, whose to say it will not spread to other's impressionable minds? Just as God is in the text of the Bible so is the devil in the pages of modern literature. The we mustn't lax, for if Anthony continues the road of a heretic it spell disastrous for rest of-"
"Anthony is not a heretic!!" Dennis explodes at the surprised pastor. "There. Is. Nothing. Wrong with him! He fell because he's sick, you dickhead!"
"Dennis Franklin Clarke!" Anne whips out her scolding tone. The fact Dennis didn't even flinch was the sign not to proceed. Dennis cradles Anthony's head on his shoulder as he lifts the teenager off the ground marches to the front and kicks the double doors open, Tanya following closely behind.
Anne turns back with a regrettable expression, "I am so sorry for this scene, Pastor Carver."
"Dennis can get a little bit over protective at times," James added. "When that happens we call him Papa Wolf," he chuckles dryly.
Carver relaxes his jaw and softens the accusatory glare from is face. He looks to the rest of the Clarke family, "There isn't anything wrong with protecting one of your own family members. In fact," he turns to the rest of the congregation, "as the O'Connor and Capels come up with the rest of the Clarke family, I'd like to present Dennis' emotional outburst as an example of doing the wrong thing for the right reason."
Carver drones on as the families leisurely filed through the aisle to stand in front of the crowd.
Megan had stayed close to the double doors, peeking through slant made from Dennis' forceful exit.
She sees Dennis walking closer to the edge of the road like he's about to walk all the way home with Anthony in his arms. Tanya stops him before he gains any real distance. Megan couldn't hear what they were saying between Pastor Carver's preaching and the distance at which they stood beyond the doors.
Tanya opens the backseat of her boyfriend, Vince's, car all the while making wild gestures from the cold road to the warm cushy backseats. At first, Dennis stood still for a moment, the lingering fury evident even from afar. Another moment passed with Dennis looking down at Anthony shivering in his arms, he concedes. Anthony is situated in the backseats before Dennis joins in after him.
As Tanya is talking with her boyfriend, it seemed to Megan that her sister was about to return to the sanctuary until something said to her made her pause and think. It wasn't long until Tanya nodded and gets in on the passenger's side.
Megan honestly would have stood there watching car shrink into the far distance through the slants if Anne hadn't snatched her up. Scolding her on how spying is very 'unlady-like' and pulls her in the direction of the last person she wants to be in close proximity with.
When Anthony awakens, the first thing he notices is the pressure in his sinus, a heaviness like there's a rock sitting on his eyes. There's an aching pain in his arms and legs he's not sure how he got them. His throat tickles with an itch that can't be scratched and his tongue felt dry.
The second thing he notices is that Death's hands while still persistent and intrusive, isn't as bad as it was before inside the cocoon of warmth Anthony finds himself in.
It was then and only then that Anthony realizes he wasn't in the chilled environment of the church anymore.
Anthony bolts up in bed in disbelief then he groans in pain clutching his head in his hands. Reorienting himself, the sick teen exposes a single eye to look curiously around the dark room.
Very little light entered through the window due the day's cloudy skies. Multiple blankets and quilts were piled on top of him on his bed and...
Anthony looks down sharply at his clothes. His button up and slacks are gone, replaced by one of Dennis' spacious black tees and his baby blue pajama pants. He bunches up the collar and sniffs-but there wasn't a scent to gain from it. Frowning, Anthony glares as if it's the fabric's fault he couldn't smell it.
The bedroom door suddenly opens with Dennis taking slow steps inside the room. He stops at the sight of Anthony sitting up awake and looking back at him.
"Oh, you're up?"
"Umm, yeah." Dennis comes over to sit next to Anthony's bed on a collapsible chair the latter didn't notice. "I-I'm sorry, when-when did we leave church? What happened?"
"You fell when our family was called up. Had to take you home, you were pretty out of it."
Anthony, riddled with guilt, couldn't have imagined the fright he must caused both church and their parents. A bad headache and bit of morning phlegm is all he had hoped his ailments were. Clearly, that was wrong.
"You-wait a minute!" he says in sudden alarm, "You didn't walk us all the way home did you?"
"No," Dennis pats a covered up leg in reassurance, "Vince drove us home."
"Really? You. And Vince. In the same vehicle." Anthony stares off to the distance, hands resting in his lap. "Was he still alive afterwards?"
Dennis scoffs, "What am I a monster? No, um...he was actually helpful. Very helpful. You remember that container of Vix we couldn't find? He found it in the medicine cabinet in the hallway bathroom."
"Really? We've been through it and a it wasn't there before!"
"Well, he did. Indeed he did." Dennis dramatically turns away before locking eyes with each other. "Which is why he was hanged for his crimes of witchcraft."
The eruption of laughter was joyous, honey to Dennis' ears. A soft moment interrupted by a congested cough. Dennis stares at him with pity as well as what could only be described as disappointed longing.
"So, dinner's almost ready," Dennis quickly changes the topic. "And you want to hear something wicked?"
Anthony looks at quizzical, "What?"
"I messed up this morning," He checks their door as if he's Superman using X-ray vision to catch any eavesdroppers, "I spilled a can of Dr. Pepper in the roast!" he whispers.
Anthony's jaw drops, "No!"
"Yes!" Dennis says in a mixture of amusement and terror (a common combination of emotions among the Clarke children).
"Does mom know?" The older Clarke shook his head. "Oh my God," Anthony chuckles from the absurdity. "Would that ruin the roast?"
"Well," Dennis claps his hands together, "we'll find out soon enough! Also, that's one of the reasons why I'm up here. Mom and Dad are debating whether or not to seat you downstairs with us. But the common ground they're standing on right now is you can join at the table if you're willing."
"Dennis, come on. It is physically impossible for me to refuse roast. And after the morning we've had? I could use a helping of mashed carrot as well."
As Anthony makes to stand on his thickly socked feet and searches for a heavy jacket to help with his shivering, Dennis mumbles about how weird the younger man is about carrots. Anthony stands in defense that mashed carrots are just as good as mashed potatoes. The rebuke is received with a pillow to the face.
Anthony stumbles back, groaning with his hands on his head. Dennis froze, guilt washing over his face. He slowly approaches, apologizing profusely, just for Anthony to snatch the pillow and whack him over the head in quick succession.
A pair of wide brown eyes stare into lidded yet confident green-blues. "Never provoke a year ten pillow combatant."
There's a heaviness in the pit of Anthony's stomach like that anxious feeling when stepping up on a tall ladder, but he's able to ignore it as the musician bursts with laughter. However, Dennis' mirth dies down suddenly. The heaviness grew once again.
"What is it?" Anthony clutches the pillow to his chest.
Dennis tosses his at the foot of his bed. He opens his mouth then closes it before a syllable could escape. Dennis looks away, picking at his lips.
It took far too long for him to finally utter, "We missed Friday."
Anthony nods, "I know, Dennis. I'm sorry. I promise I'll make it up to you after I-"
"Can you not apologize for something that isn't your fault, for once?" Anthony's lips sealed up tight. "Look, this-this is going to be a hard week. I know not just for me, but for both of us. I just-I just need to know if there's anything that I can do to help-us. Is there a contingency plan or something?"
"I wasn't aware I had to make contingency plans regarding sex," Anthony deadpans. "Besides, I don't really wanna think about that right now. It feels like my head got knocked off with a baseball, and I'm hungry. Besides, we'll cross that bridge when we get there, ya?"
Dennis takes a firm stance, hands on his hips, brows furrowed. He wanted to argue, Anthony knows he does. But then the slightly older man slumps his shoulders with a sigh, reluctantly agreeing.
The table had been set (minus one place mat) for everyone in the Clarke family home when Anthony and Dennis come down for supper.
Anne was just fixing the placements for the sides when Megan runs up to her brother to hug him around the waist. She looks up with her chin resting on his stomach, big brown eyes staring in concern.
"Are you okay, Anthony? After today, I thought you wouldn't want to come down."
Anthony pats her head as he responds, "You kidding? Mom's roast is to die for. And you can bet your lemon drops that I'll go out with a mouthful."
Megan smiles before it drops back down to her previous concern, "Even after Pastor Carver called you a heretic?"
Anthony frowns at the question, "What?" he looks up to Dennis, "What is she talking about?"
"Don't pay it any mind, Anthony," James says, seated from the head of the table. "Leonard just went off the rails again."
"And speaking of which," Anne fixes the bowl of Brussels sprouts to her liking before locking eyes with Dennis, "I don't want to see you blowing your top in church or in any public place again."
Dennis sheepishly scratches at the back of his head for a second then gives half a shrug, "Not really something I can rein in in the moment and-besides-I was just defending Anthony. I would have done the same if Carver went after any of you guys."
"I know," Anne sighs. She strode toward the boys to give Dennis half-hearted taps on the cheek, "and that's why your father talked me out of fully grounding you." Anne caresses Megan's hair then glares adoringly into Anthony's briefly touching his chin, "Charity is in our nature as good Christians, but we're nothing if we don't take care of our own."
Anne retreats to the table urging the kids to take their seats before the winter cold saps all of the heat from the dishes. Dennis is confounded in what not being fully grounded meant just to be shushed by James.
The seating pertained, respectively, to Dennis and Anthony across from each other, followed by Megan and Anne next to the boys, then James at the head. Even with the perfect family image at the table Anthony seemed out of place in his exhaustion. With his lidded eyes and occasionally rubbing his temples to release the pressure in his head. Yet, he perseveres in his goal to obtain supper no matter the consequences.
Not a split second was spared when saying grace was done Dennis practically shouts, 'Amen!" before jabbing a single halved potato with his fork. Anne could only shake her head in disapproval.
Everyone got their portions of roast with Anthony going straight for mashing his carrots with a fork, Dennis rolls his eyes. But even when both boys were done gathering their plates they didn't dare take a single bite just yet.
The boys observed the rest of the family as they unknowingly sampled the incidentally experimental roast. Megan is the first to pipe up with her favor of the dish, saying its the best she's ever tasted. James gave a more critical analysis noting the edge of sweetness yet praises the flavors overall.
"Did you use a different wine this time?" James asks.
Anne shakes her head in confusion, "No. I haven't done anything different. It's the same as I've always made it. Tanya and Dennis did help with the vegetables but-" her eye catches onto to Dennis' who contrary to his gluttonous nature had left his plate untouched. Guilty, Dennis' shoulders goes up to his ears as he buries his face into his plate, scarfing down his roast in hopes of not looking suspicious. Anthony chuckles through a bite of mashed carrot because the act does the exact opposite. "Dennis? Do you perhaps have any idea why my roast tastes different this evening?"
"Whaaa-?" Dennis says with a mouthful before remembering his manners and closes his mouth to swallow. "I would never "intentionally" sabotage your roast. You sure you didn't just sprinkle some extra love in it this time? Anthony! What about you? Do you think the roast tastes any different?"
A solemn looking Anthony shrugs, "I don't taste a difference."
"See!" Dennis keeps up the gaslighting, "Anthony doesn't think so-"
"No, no. I don't taste a difference because I can't taste ANYTHING," there was an edge of misery to Anthony's words, "I can't even smell anything." He picks the meat on his plate disappointingly.
A silence fell over the table. The adults looked at one another as realization settled in all at once. This isn't just an off day for Anthony. Anthony is sick. And very much so.
Anne places gentle hand between the teenager's shoulder blades, "Eat what you can, dear, then go on upstairs and get some rest."
Anthony nods weakly, picking up a piece of roast with his fork. The coiling in his stomach worsens with every bite he took, but he forces it anyways.