Chapter Text
Montgomery
Some things never changed and some things you got used to more quickly than others. And even if it was to be expected, some things came as a surprise.
"Did I do something wrong?" the boy asked as he sat nervously in the chair. The air was stuffy and it wasn't exactly his favorite place, even though he had been here often.
"Not this time, no," the man sitting at the desk said gently. Too gently for the boy's liking. The last thing he wanted was pity - the very last thing. He was independent and got along on his own. He always has and always will. Pity towards him was mostly just fake anyway. It was just a saying and didn't achieve anything. Never.
A woman entered the room and the boy sighed when he saw her. Of course, it was a familiar face. It didn't take a detective to know what was going on. Now he knew why he was here.
Here we are again.
“What's wrong this time?” the boy asked as he saw everything he had in the small backpack the woman had just brought in.
"It's not your fault, Montgomery," the woman said and the boy knew it. Of course, it wasn't his fault, even if others tried to convince him so. But he hadn't done anything wrong. At least nothing came to his mind at that moment.
“Who told you?” Montgomery asked harshly and the woman sighed. It didn't take a detective to know why the woman was here, why things weren't working out again.
"Your sports teacher told me," she said.
How rude.
The boy shook his head. "Everything’s fine. He’s lying about whatever he said.”
I don't want that again...
“You know he’s not lying,” the woman said gently. Montgomery looked away. He didn't want to look her in the eyes.
“Ready?” the woman asked. The boy just shrugged, picked up his school backpack, and stood up.
"Goodbye Montgomery," the man behind the desk said. "Take care."
"Bye," the boy said back quietly, knowing he would probably never see this school’s principal again. The woman also said goodbye to the principal and led the boy out of the office - the office from which he had to be picked up so often. He was a bit of a troublemaker, but why bother if it didn't help anyway? This time he was sure it would be the last time he had to be picked up here. Most of the time he had to change schools in such a situation.
Montgomery hadn't made any friends here anyway; he'd been at school too short for that. However, he didn't even start looking for friends anymore because he was always traveling somewhere else. Phoenix hadn't been one of his favorite places. He lived in the middle of the city between exhaust fumes and cars. The noise was sometimes unbearable even at night. He only had a small room with the bare necessities. No toys and only used clothes and furniture.
"Where are we going?" Montgomery asked as he ran after the woman. He had to walk faster because he wasn't particularly tall and the woman had long strides.
"To the doctor," she said.
“What? Why? I’m literally fine,” the boy protested, pulling down his sleeves, just to get sure. The woman shouldn't see his bruises. Nobody should.
“Kid, listen. They admitted it," the woman said as she arrived at her car and opened the passenger door for the boy.
He frowned. “Who admitted what?” Maybe if I pretend I don’t know anything about…
“Your foster family. They confessed that they hurt you,” she said and Montgomery’s world began to spin. Why? Why are they even admitting this?
"I...I thought I hid it well," he said and the woman sighed.
“That's not the point of it. I told you to call me if there's anything wrong," she said but the boy just shrugged. They drove off and the woman made sure that she didn't drive over a certain speed, even if she was actually allowed to. Montgomery was very grateful for this. At least there was one person in the world who showed consideration for him. Because if she had driven faster, the racing heart would have returned along with the acrid taste of the smoke - memories that Montgomery would have liked to bury, but that kept coming back.
A question circled through his mind. The question of what will happen next, where he will go, and who he will live with. As if it had made a difference anyway, because every foster family had passed him on sooner or later and now he no longer made any effort to be nice - because who cares?
“It’s really not that bad,” the boy said quietly.
“I’ll let the doctor check you anyway,” she replied.
Soon after, they arrived at the pediatrician.
The waiting room was full. Montgomery felt very uncomfortable. Every child had a mother or a father or at least someone who belonged to them. Not the boy. He had the woman, but she wasn't his. But sometimes he thought it would be better this way.
He was alone in this world. He had never met anyone who loved him. Nobody wanted to stay for too long and the boy didn't understand why at first. He made the greatest effort with everyone. He had done his best. But now he gave up.
"Sue?" Montgomery asked.
“Yes?” the woman looked at him.
“Where will I live next?”
"I don't know yet," Sue said, putting a hand on Montgomery's shoulder. She was the only one who was allowed to do that. Because she was always nice to him and she reminded him of his mother.
"Montgomery McQueen?" someone called out to him and the boy got up and went to the door. Sue followed him and they went into the treatment room. Montgomery didn't like doctors. He didn't like hospitals or clinics because everything reminded him of his trauma. It was a long time ago. Still, it ran through his head almost every day.
I hate this.
"Hello young man," the doctor greeted him as they entered the room. The boy didn't think he was a young man at 15, but he greeted him politely anyway. The whole time during the examination he was thinking about something else. His thoughts were the only place where he could do whatever he wanted. He imagined who he could be if he wasn't him. Not Montgomery McQueen - not nothing. In his mind he could be a hero or a surfer, sometimes he was a lifeguard or a successful businessman. On other days he just imagined what it would be like to have someone who loved him. A loving father or a living mother, maybe even just an uncle or aunt, a cousin, or even just a friend. Just someone saying: ‘Nice to see you’. Nothing more and nothing less. Sue liked him. But that was different because she looked after many children. She probably liked everyone equally. But Montgomery wanted to be special one day. Specially loved. Like nine years ago when the world was still in order and he knew where he belonged.
“You’ll be fine,” the doctor said after a while. The scratches, bruises, and wounds on Montgomery's arms and torso were treated. He didn't know if he would be fine... sometimes he thought he wouldn't be okay until he grew up.
They said goodbye, got some ointment for the boy, and left the building - just for Montgomery's liking. Relieved, he got back into the car.
"See? It wasn't half as bad," Sue said with a smile and started the car. The boy just shrugged.
“So what now?” he asked.
"Now we'll find you a new family," Sue said and the boy shook his head as he looked out the window. It never worked. He had never called anyone family except his mother. And the images in his head began to fade a long time ago, although he never wanted to admit it. He would never forget his mother. The boy clutched the medallion that hung on a necklace around his neck.
"Good luck with that," the boy murmured quietly. Sue didn't answer, but he knew she had heard it. She wasn't a psychologist, just a social worker, but she still knew more than others.
Paul
It was evening. The old car made loud sputtering noises but wouldn't turn on again. The engine was something that had been worked on for a long time. The man sighed and muttered something under his breath. Then he got out of the Hornet and closed the door. He collected the tools and threw them disorganized on the tool table. The car sat here in the garage for many years after the accident, but Paul was sure he would get it running again one day. One day he wanted to drive around again. Like in the good old days.
He took off his gloves and tossed them to the tools, then went outside. The air was fresh, in contrast to the stuffy garage.
Paul lived on a small farm. There was no other house far and wide, except for the small town, which was a twenty-minute drive from here. He loved his small farm and the vastness of the prairie. He loved working on his car, he loved the fresh country air and his animals.
Paul took a deep breath and made his way to the house.
“Still not working?” his older brother asked. He was sitting on a bench on the porch and reading a newspaper.
“Nah, but I’ll get it to work… one day,” Paul said as he walked up the steps to the entrance. "Anything interesting?" he asked, nodding at the newspaper.
"Not really... oh before I forget, someone called you a few times," Pete said.
Oh my goodness.
“Seriously? Smokey, why didn’t you tell me?” Paul said and made his way into the house.
Pete got up and followed him. “Hey to be fair, you’ve been busy.”
“Yeah, but not that busy. Maybe it was important," he said and picked up the phone and called back the number that had called him a few times.
Pete
Paul disappeared into his office room and Pete sat down at the kitchen table. He liked visiting his younger brother, even if it was just for a short time. Every summer he came here for a few weeks to visit.
Paul was stubborn - he really had to get the old car running. That was also what stopped him from continuing to race after the accident. He didn't want to drive without the Hornet anymore and every mechanic had assured him that it was a total loss - no hope for the car. Pete admired his brother's perseverance but would mostly call it stubbornness.
Pete chuckled as he thought about it and that's when Paul came back. He looked pale and shocked but also extremely happy.
What on earth happened?
“You’re alright, Hud?” Pete asked and Paul nodded.
"Smokey, remember when I told you about taking in a child? The foster care stuff?”
"Well...if I try really hard I might be able to remember," he said, smirking. “How could I forget? You really haven’t talked about anything else for months.”
“Yeah right. Anyway, I'm getting a child. In two days," Paul said excitedly and Pete's eyes lit up.
"Wow. Congratulations,” he said. “Just like that?”
“Just like that. It's probably an emergency and there are no other options. I mean… I hadn't even finished all the courses and didn't have a room ready yet. Just a guest room and...," Paul started to stutter.
“Bro, calm down. It'll be fine. We still have time for the room tomorrow,” Pete said calmly.
“One day Smokey! I don’t know if I’m ready,” Paul said, pushing his hair back in stress.
“You’re definitely ready. Do you already know the name or something?”
“A 15-year-old boy. His name is Montgomery McQueen,” Paul said and started to smile and Pete knew everything was going to be okay. The boy needed a home and Paul needed a new purpose in life. He had spent his days just sitting in the garage for long enough, tinkering with the old car. It was time for something new. For a new wind and Paul had always wanted children. Things just never worked out with having a family. Paul just never met the woman of his dreams, although he really would’ve loved to.
Paul
The next day Paul drove with Pete to the nearest big city to run errands.
"What do you think he likes?" Paul asked.
"I don't know." Pete thought. “What do boys like these days?”
Paul shrugged his shoulders as they walked through a shopping mall. “We need a bit of choice so he can choose something.”
The first thing they did was get clothes. A few different sizes because they didn't know how tall or small the boy would be. Different colors and patterns on T-shirts, jeans, pants, and caps.
“Can you imagine what it’s like to have no one? The kid has been without a family since he was six years old," Paul said as they finally reached a bookstore.
"That is hard. Poor boy,” Pete said, shaking his head.
“Do you think he’ll be traumatized? Or scared?”
“Possible, Hud. That’s actually very likely.”
Paul nodded as he put a few books in the basket that he thought might be interesting. "You know... I really want to help him."
Pete patted his younger brother on the shoulder. "You will. If you're as stubborn about raising children and love as you are about fixing your junk car then nothing can go wrong." Pete grinned.
Paul huffed. "Don't you dare call my Hornet that," he said, playfully raising his index finger in warning.
Pete raised his hands in surrender. “Hey, that’s what all the mechanics said. Not only me."
"I know." Paul sighed.
“Hey, sorry. I was just joking around,” Pete said quickly.
"It's okay. One day I'll drive the car again. You'll see."
"I'm sure I will.”
Afterward, the two of them bought toys, although Pete said that the boy would probably be too old but Paul insisted. Plus pillows and bed sheets, posters, and a fluffy carpet. A new desk and a ukulele - for no particular reason. Paul thought a ukulele would be cool. Paul even bought a laptop and an iPhone. Neither was the newest but not too bad either. Paul wanted to do something good for the boy without spoiling him.
Satisfied, they both went back to Paul's house with their haul.
When they arrived, they decorated the guest room with posters and cleaned everything. They put the pillows on the bed, the new books and toys on the shelves, the clothes in the wardrobe and after setting up the desk they put the laptop and cell phone on it. All in all, the room ended up looking very cozy. The bright colors of the cushions were inviting but not too overwhelming.
“It looks great,” Pete said and Paul nodded in agreement.
"Thanks for your help. Without you I would’ve been too chaotic,” Paul said.
“Don’t mention it. You can always count on me.”
Paul smiled and Pete smiled back as they looked into the room, imagining if the boy would be happy with his new room. Paul had so many thoughts in general. What did the boy like? What didn't he like? Would he be an introvert or an extrovert? Was he a sad or a happy child? Did he have many fears and the most important question: would he accept Paul?