Chapter Text
"Do you see it?"
"Yes, Sir..." Harry's hands were shaking.
"Breathe..."
Harry licked his lips in anticipation. A strong hand touched the ten year old's back and than instantly calmed him down. When the hand gently rubbed the area between his shoulders. "Line the shot, but remember, keep your finger off that trigger until you're absolutely sure." Harry, peering through a scope- his glasses folded and placed right next to him.-, let out a shaking breath and ignore his pounding heart. The shot was perfectly lined; a buck, big, with giant antlers, was on the other side of the scope, none the wiser of his fate the moment Harry pulled the trigger.
One last big breath in, Harry steeled himself firmly before he brought his finger to the trigger. 'Painless.' he reminded himself. POW! Echoed all around the forest, it was so loud that it caused the nearby birds to flee, as well as any other animal for that matter, but not the buck. The buck fell to the ground as Harry shot it right in the head. The best death as it was painless, and that put Harry at ease.
"Good job, Harry!" The man- Ricky- cheered as he clasped his mighty hand on Harry's back. Harry let out a shaky breath as he pushed himself up and the two of them hurried from their hiding spot. Down a hill they went, with Harry nearly tripping over a root. Thankfully, the back of his jacket was grabbed, preventing him from getting a nasty bruise, no doubt.
Harry made it to the buck.
"Okay, hold it up by it's antlers, This picture is going on the wall, for sure." Ricky crouched down on one knee with the camera in front of his right eye, while his left eye was screwed shut, waiting to snap the perfect picture.
Harry let out a shivering breath, but did as his father said. He grasped the mighty antlers of the buck and held the head up. The buck was still bleeding, blood oozing out of it's snout and mouth. The first time it happened, Harry almost threw up, but now he's been hunting with his dad for nearly two years and was used to such a gory sight. He held the buck's head up, faced the camera, and smiled. "Like this, Dad?" He asked.
"Perfect, son."
And the picture was taken.
Harry hummed as his father, Ricky, drove down the road. The ten year old, gently patted his legs as he kicked his legs. The deer was tied up in the bed of the truck and would be taken home, where his dad would show Harry how to butcher it properly.
Ricky was a big man. Not big as in round or pump, but big as in size. He was nearly 6'5" and was strong. After all, he hauled the deer over his shoulders with little to no complaint. His brown hair was cut neatly into a crew cut. His was tan, so tan that when Harry put his arm next to his father's arm, it wasn't even close to the same, but when his father took his socks off, his feet did match Harry's skin tone. Which was crazy. Harry was tan as he loved to play outside, but not as tan as father.
The windows of the truck was down considering it was a hot and sticky August day. With the window's down, the air blew Harry's wild hair every which way. It made him grab his ball cap and put it on backwards to prevent his hair from getting too tangled up. "Your hair is getting long." Ricky hummed as he grabbed a lock of Harry's black hair. His hair went down to Harry's shoulder. "You want a cut soon?"
"I dunno?" Harry shrugged. "Remember what happened last time?"
"I do."
Harry wanted to say he was a normal kid, as normal as a kid in Texas could be anyways, but that wasn't always the case. There were odd moments when odd things happened to Harry in particular. His hair, being wild and unkempt, being one of those things. One time, when Harry was five, his Momma, Carrie, gave him a bowl cut, using an actual bowl as a base as she put it over his head. Harry despite being five hated it. He remembered pouting about it all night, then, the next morning his hair had grown back to what it had been.
They had all chalked it up to him just having 'good genes!' as Ricky put it, but it wasn't the only time it happened either. Last month, Harry had gotten a hair cut at a great clips, and they butchered his hair, giving him choppy and uneven layers for some reason. When Carrie had complained about the cut, the stylist responded by just shaving Harry's head. Harry wasn't much of a cryer, but he actually cried about the loss of his locks, knowing it'd take years to come back. Sure enough, despite all of them having seen Harry with a buzz cut when he went to bed, when he woke up, his hair was back to how it had been before the awful cut.
Still, his parents didn't make much of a fuss. Probably because they preferred the longer locks over the god awful buzz cut. Still, Harry was either going to learn how to put his hair in a ponytail, or get another trim soon. The August heat was brutal this year, as the temperatures were reaching heights in the hundreds. "You want a bug juice, kiddo?" Ricky asked as he put his blinker on to turn into the Shell gas station.
"Yes, please, sir!"
"Okay, let me top off the gas and I'll get you one. Green?"
"Red!"
Ricky laughed as he put a hand on Harry's head. "You earned it."
He pulled up to a pump and opened his truck door. The 1981 candy red Ford may not have been the newest as the door squeaked something horrible once opened, but it was reliable according to Ricky.
Harry craned his head to watch his father pump the gas, he liked watching the numbers move all around the pump, though his father didn't seem to agree. "Twenty, or thirty?" He wondered to himself as he watched the numbers go up, up, up—
It was thirty. "Urg." He heard Ricky grumble as he put the nozzle up at the pump. "I'll be back, kiddo. Stay put."
"Yes, sir!" He called as Ricky went inside the gas station, hands in his pockets. Harry didn't know why Ricky often came to this gas station, when there was another gas station down the road that always had cheaper gas...
Still, Harry didn't complain as his father came back with a red Bug Juice, as requested. "Thank you." He told his dad as Ricky handed him the drink. Harry, at first, tried to take the plastic cap off of the juice, but it was never that simple. Never that simple. No, before he knew it, Harry was using his teeth to pry to plastic cap off.
Ricky, chuckled as he watched Harry. "Show that cap who's boss."
"I'm Tryin'!" Harry grunted as he yanked his head from side to side. Eventually, the cap would give out, Harry let out a triumphant cry and spat the cap into his palm. Then, he took his spoils, the borderline sickening sweet drink that was Bug Juice. More sugar than anything and absolutely no juice. It had the coying flavor of fruit punch that always left the back of Harry's dry as his tongue would start to turn red from the dye in the drink. Still, he guzzled it down. He took a few greedy swigs before he would put the drink down.
Ricky moved some of his own light brown hair out of his eyes and Harry watched this. "Say pop," The boy started as he thought about his own hair versus his parents. "I've been wonderin' see, we've been learnin' about genetics and Punnett squares in school the other day. You have brown hair, and Momma has blonde hair, why do I have black hair?" Harry asked as he pointed to himself.
"Mmm?" Ricky grunted and looked at Harry briefly before looking at the road. "Oh that? You get that from my Grandpop. He had thick black hair, it just skipped a generation."
"Oh! And...my eyes? Neither you nor Momma wear glasses."
"You writin' a book?" Ricky laughed.
Harry puffed out his chest. "Maybe I am."
There was another laugh and reached over where he pulled Harry into a hug. "Also from my Grandpop."
"Ah, Gotcha." Harry went back to sipping on his drink while his father drove. "What are we going to eat first?" He asked and when his dad looked at him, Harry tilted his head towards the buck in the back of truck.
"Ah! I don't know. We can't eat it tonight, I gotta brine the meat and make sure it's free of any parasites, but I'm thinking some nice steaks first."
"Yes!" Harry cheered and his father chuckled.
"Been looking forward to that, have you?"
"Mhm! Momma makes the best steaks!"
"Hey! What about me?" Ricky laughed and Harry made a 'so-so' motion.
"Little traitor!" Ricky then took Harry's cap off of his head just so he could ruffle Harry's wild locks.
"Dad, no!" Harry protested, but Ricky didn't stop. He focused his eyes off of the road for just a moment to mess with his son. Just a moment.
The truck veered into the next lane where there was a an oncoming SUV—
"Dad!" Harry reached out towards the steer wheel, but didn't touch it.
Then the car was just back in it's own lane line nothing happened. Ricky didn't turn the wheel however, Harry didn't touch the wheel, it was just in the right lane, facing the right way, going forward.
The SUV honked loudly and the driver said something in anger, but neither Harry nor Ricky heard what was spewed. Both were just staring ahead at the road. Ricky was grasping the wheel with white knuckles and Harry swallowed hard.
"Well..." After a second or two, when both were regaining their bearings, Ricky spoke. "That was lucky, wasn't it, boy?"
"Yeah, I'd say." Harry gave an awkward laugh.
The rest of the ride home was calmed down with no more rough-housing between father and son.
Ricky pulled off of a side road and on to a gravel path that lead the way to their home.
The path was elongated with only gravel to cover it that caused the tires to rock and spew rocks and gravel every which way. Down the long twisted path that lead to a driveway. There to greet them was their house.
The house was a modest two-story farmhouse. The house was a buttercup yellow that was fading with it's age. The door was a vibrant bright red that stood out greatly against the yellow of the house. There was a wrap around porch and on the porch was a bench swing that matched the door as it was a bright red color.
The front door opened and Harry's mother, Carrietta 'Carrie' stepped out to greet them. She was a plump woman with a rounded face and kind brown eyes. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a braid that hung behind her and stopped below her shoulders. When she opened the door, their two dogs, Rufus and Anthony, came running out at top speed. The dogs ran around the truck as it approached, they were experts as they swerved out of the way of the on coming tires.
Harry always felt worried for the dogs, fearful they would somehow get hit. His father reassured him that the dogs were smart enough to know not to get caught under the wheels.
When the truck came to a stop, Rufus jumped on Harry's door and greeted the boy with a wagging tail and a happy open mouth.
Rufus was a mutt, red in color with lab features, but was squat like a pit bull. When Harry opened his door, the dog jumped in and greeted the boy proper with slobbering kisses. Harry squealed as he wrapped his arms around Rufus's neck and pulled the dog in. Harry had always been a dog lover, ever since he could remember. If he thought really, really hard, he could remember a big black dog that always kept him safe when he was a baby.
Yet, when he asked his parents about that black dog, they would say it was a lab they had to put down. Harry didn't know how, but he knew it wasn't a lab. When in school, Harry would sometimes scour books on dogs in hopes of finding the actual breed. He never could.
"Hi boy!" Harry greeted Rufus fondly while he rubbed behind the dog's ears.
Anthony was a lot more reserved as he sat and waited for the command. He's a retired K9 German Shepard. Elderly, at the age of eight. He only retired this year and took well to their family and Rufus's antics as Rufus was younger than Anthony. Harry undid his seatbelt and hopped down, with Rufus jumping next to him. "Hi, Anthony." He patted the dog's head, knowing that Anthony didn't like to be doted on like Rufus.
"Momma!" He ran up to his mother, and the woman hugged him tight.
"How was hunting with, Dad?" She would ask when Harry pulled back.
"Great! I shot that buck!" Harry yelled and pointed to the dead buck in the back of the truck.
"That he did!" Ricky yelled as he shut his door. "Got him right in the head! This thing will feed us for a few months. It's at least a two hundred pounder!"
"That's my boy!" Carrie grinned big. "Why don't you go wash up and change out of those clothes while your father hangs the buck?"
"Yes, ma'am!"
"Wear something plain! Something you don't mind getting stained!" Carrie called after the ten year old.
"Yes, ma'am!" He repeated as he was soon inside.
When Harry was gone, this left the two adults. "The boy is askin' questions again." Ricky grunted. "We're going to have to tell him sooner or later, Carrie." He whispered once he was sure Harry was out of ear shot.
"When he's older."
"Christ, Carrie, he learned about genetics the other day and realized we don't match him at all."
"What'd you say?"
"The same thing I always do. I told him it came from my Grandpop."
Carrie grunted and then sighed deeply. "We agreed to wait until he was eighteen, Ricky."
"Carrie, I'm not sure we can keep it a secret that long. He's an...what's that fancy word his teacher said?" Ricky started to walk back towards the truck to grab the Buck.
"Astute, dear."
Ricky opened the bed of the truck. "Yeah, he's that. He's observant as all hell." Ricky then grabbed the buck and hauled it over his shoulder. "Don't forget the time he figured out we were going to Disney before we even had the chance to tell him."
"I thought my plan was rather clever." Carrie only giggled at the memory.
Her plan was every night they would watch a Disney film, and then on the final night ask Harry if he wanted to go to Disney in Florida. Harry figured it out on night two because it was odd that they'd watch a 'kid' movie twice in a row. Which was true.
"Hell, I thought it was clever, but he saw right through it. I'm just saying, Carrie—" Ricky grunted as he adjusted the buck so it was laying over both shoulders. "—He's going to figure it out before too long."
Carrie gave a deep, deep, sigh. "I know he is, Rick, but... how do you look a child in the face and say 'we found you abandoned at the Shell gas station down the road'?"
"Maybe you can get him a bug juice every day from the station and lead up to it—" That earned Ricky a swat, first on the shoulder by his irate wife, then she grabbed the towel that was hanging in her jean pocket, no doubt from cleaning, and started to wring it up. Ricky let out a short cut off scream as he quickly scampered towards their garage.
"Yeah, you better run, Smartass!" Carrie yelled after him.
"What happened?"
Carrie let out a noise as she turned to see Harry standing right behind her. He was dressed in a black shirt and ratty old shorts that had one been jeans, but were cut and frayed at the ends. He also wore a pair of dusty and worn down cowboy boots on his feet.
She had determined he had not heard anything by the fact that he didn't seem shocked or alarmed and must have just saw her trying to hit Ricky with her towel. "Oh nothing—" and she tucked her towel away, back into her back pocket. "—Just your father being annoying. As usual. You better go, he's about to hang the buck up.
"Okay, Momma!" and the boy bounded off to go and help his father in anyway he could. Carrie watched him go before turning around to go inside the house. Rufus and Anthony staying behind, knowing if they played their cards right they could possibly get a new bone to eat.
That night, after the deer had been cut up and all the meat was resting in the fridge in the garage to brine over night. The family had a simple meal of chili and cornbread for dinner and when that was done, Harry helped his mother with the dishes. He stood a small step stool and stood beside his mother as she washed and he dried. "Jayce's family has a fancy new dishwasher." Harry told his mother.
"Is that so?" Carrie asked him as she handed him a plate and he nodded.
"Yep, his Momma doesn't need to stand at the sink anymore, she just loads it, then she hits a few buttons, locks it, and it does the cleaning for her." Harry told his mother. "Do you ever think you'd ever get a dishwasher?"
"Hm, They're too expensive." Carrie said.
Harry didn't hesitate. "Just you wait! I'll get a job and I'll buy a fancy new Dishwasher, just like Jayce's momma!" He said proudly with a puffed chest.
Carrie gave her son a smile as she handed him a cup, and he started to dry it. "Just wait, you'll make your own money and spend it on things you want."
"If one of the things I want is a dishwasher?"
"So you don't have to do the dishes?" She asked him as he put the glass in the cupboard above his head.
"No, so you don't have to do dishes."
Carrie only sighed softly at that as she handed him a fork to dry. "Harry, those dishwashers may seem convenient, but you're still doing just as much as if you didn't have a dishwasher. Yes, it cleans the dishes, but you still have to load the washer and when it's done it's not going to unload itself, you know. Not only that, but your momma worked in a place that had one of them 'fancy' dishwashers, and you still have the rinse the food off."
"Oh..." Harry said as he looked at the fork that he was drying. He dried it and then put it back in the drawer.
"Sometimes, Harry, you have to know that if you want something done right, then it's best to just do it yourself. I know here that when I do the dishes they will be clean. You don't always need something expensive or 'fancy'."
"...But just last week, weren't you asking dad for a new fridge? One that dispenses ice and water? And that's bigger?" Harry asked and Carrie's face went red. Not out of anger, but most likely embarrassment.
"Yes, I suppose I did, Hun." She would tell him as she handed him the last dish in the soapy water, the dish being a glass. Harry was careful as he grabbed the glass and dried it with his cloth that was starting to dampen. "But that was different...Kinda. I suppose I would like a fridge with a ice and water dispenser for the convenience, much like Jayce's mom with her dishwasher. However, I also want a new fridge for different reasons, other than just convenience, If we got a bigger fridge or the kitchen, then we could get rid of the smaller fridge in the garage and put this fridge in the garage instead." She pointed to their current fridge. "This fridge is bigger than the one in the garage, right?"
"Yeah, It is. Dad was grumblin' earlier as he putting the buck meat in the fridge because he wasn't sure it would all fit this time around."
"Exactly. So, while convenience is nice, we're also going for practically, which I suppose was Jayce's parents thought process as well."
"Oh, okay, I think I understand."
Carrie ruffled Harry's hair. "That's all or the dishes, Sugah, why don't you go hop in the bath, get your PJ's on and head to bed."
"Aw, do I have to?" Harry protested.
" 'Fraid so. School is right around the corner, you know the rules, bed by nine from now on." Public school would be starting in a few weeks and it was time to get him used to going to bed early.
"Okay, momma." He would relent with a sigh and then rush up the stairs.
Carrie would watch him go until he vanished out of her line of sight. Once he was gone, she would lean against the counter and cross her arms.
'Eight years really have flown by.' She thought to herself once alone.
Even eight years later, Carrie remembered the very day she and Ricky found Harry at that Shell station. She remembered every detail, down to how there was the faint smell of gasoline that lingered in the air when Ricky parked his truck at the gas pump.
It was a rather stifling June day when Ricky pulled up to the gas pump at the Shell. Ricky's ford shiny and new off the lot. He parked it and both he and Carrie got out of the truck. Carrie because she wanted— no, she needed a water. Her mouth was dry and her mind was screaming at her for not getting a water before they went out to for the day. Ricky getting out to go and tell the attendant how much to put on the pump. "I'm getting a water before I faint, Darlin'." Carrie told Ricky as she smoothed out her ruffled top. Her hair was starting to deflate from the heat, it's what she got for hurriedly crimping it and not letting it set properly. "You want anything?"
"Yeah, get me a Sprite, and I mean a Sprite, none of that 7-up shit." Ricky had told her as he walked beside her.
"You should really get a water. It's hotter than the devil out here and you haven't drank anything all day."
"I'll be fine, just get me a Sprite, okay?"
It was there, as they stepped on the side walk did Carrie see him. The small child sitting on the sidewalk, his skin red, his green eyes vacant as he stared at the pavement below him. Carrie had vaguely noted how the clothes he worn were both too big on such a small frame, but also tattered. Even his shoes looked to be a least two sizes too big with the soles clearly worn down. It was almost like the world slowed as she stared at this child for a just a second before stepping into the gas station with Ricky, who hadn't even noticed the kid.
When she crossed the threshold, she was met with the immediate relief of cool air from the AC. It was then, once in the AC and the cool, did she stop and turn around to stare at the parking lot. Outside of Ricky's Ford, there wasn't a single car.
Still, she didn't panic, she chalked it up to maybe being the store employee's kid. As sad as it was to just leave a kid in the blistering Texas heat, she tried to ration with herself that maybe the employee wasn't well off, and the kid was obviously sunburnt from playing outside without sunscreen. It happens, and wasn't her place to cast judgement on anyone.
So, Carrie grabbed herself a water, she grabbed Ricky his Sprite, and she found herself grabbing an extra big water on top of it all. Hey, she wasn't going to judge, that didn't mean she wasn't going to help. When she made it to the cashier, a man, with her items, Ricky gave her an odd look for the two waters.
"Ten on pump one along with all this—" Ricky had started, and Carrie just found it too hard to be quiet.
"—Is that your kid outside? She cut her husband off and the cashier looked confused.
"Kid?" The guy asked as he tried to look where she had pointed, but Carrie realized the window was slightly obscured by a giant advertisement for cigarettes, making it near impossible for the employee to see the child outside.
"What kid?" Both Ricky and the Employee asked her.
And that solidified it for Carrie, hell, she didn't wait for Ricky to pay, she snatched the extra big water off of the counter and went out the door in a blur.
When Carrie approached the poor boy, she never took in just how tiny he was. She approached him like she would a wild animal, cautious, fearful he'd turn and run at any sudden movements. When her shadow passed over him, and he was probably granted some relief from the unrelenting heat this June day had casted upon them, did he look at her.
His green eyes had no light to them, his cheeks a deep and unsettling color of red from the unrelenting sun. His hair was a dark black that had looked, not just oily, but crusted from the heat. If the heat had crusted his hair then that meant he had been out here for sometime. His lips looked dry, no color to them at all as hey were flaking and turning bloodied. He was skinny, too skinny.
Carrie would cautiously sit with him on the side walk. Through her jeans, she could feel the heat against the pavement and she couldn't imagine how uncomfortable this poor kid felt. "Thirsty?" she would then offer him the water bottle. The boy moved his knees up to his chest and looked at the water with hungry eyes. He licked his lips as he eyed the bottle, but he didn't take it.*
"It's okay." And she moved the bottle just a little closer towards the kid. "It's hotter than the dickens out here, you must be thirsty."
They looked so untrusting it broke her heart. It was like he wanted so badly to take it, but something was holding him back. So, Carrie tried another way. She would put the bottle down beside him and not touch it. Letting him know she wasn't going to hurt him. The poor boy reached for the water, but his eyes didn't leave hers, like he was waiting for her to take it from him, to snatch it. She wouldn't. The moment he wrapped his little hands around the bottle, he snatched it with a vigor that no child should have. He then uncapped it and chugged.
His tiny throat bobbed up and down as he chugged so much water that he started to cough. When he coughed, he nearly dropped the bottle, which Carrie quickly grabbed to prevent it from spilling. The boy hacked and coughed loudly, water and spittle flying from his mouth as his tiny chest heaved violently. Carrie would do something risky, she patted him on the back, at this, the boy had flinched at first at her touch, clearly not expecting kindness.
"Holy hell." She would hear Ricky say in shock as he lifted his ball cap up as if his eyes couldn't believe what he was seeing. The Employee was right next to him and they looked just as surprised.
"I've been here all day, I had no— I'll call the cops." They turned and hurried back inside.
Ricky came up to them and crouched down. "Well, Howdy there, little man, what are you doing all the way out here?" He would say before he took his baseball cap off of his head and put it on the boy's. Once again, the poor child flinched, but would relax when he realized Ricky meant no harm. "Where's your folks?"
"..." He didn't answer as he continued to eye Carrie's water bottle that was in her hand. She wouldn't hand it to him. Instead, she guided it to him and brought the end to his mouth where she would help him take slow and controlled sips to prevent him coughing. He guzzled the water down, taking greedy gulps and would pull away once satiated. Then, once he caught his breath, he would say something that shocked both Carrie and Ricky. " 'old to stay." There was something...different about his voice, about the accent he clearly had, but Carrie just couldn't quite place it. His words were slurred and breathless.
"Is that so?" Ricky would inquire next, making sure to keep his voice calm. "You got a name, little man? or am I just gonna have to keep calling you 'little man'?" He would change the subject.
"...'Arry. I'm two."
"Harry? What a lovely name. I'm Carrie, our names rhyme." Carrie would offer the boy a loving smile. "And your two? You're so big and brave!"
"It ain't right—" Ricky had grunted and Carrie nudged him in the ribs
Carrie reached over and pushed some of Harry's wild hair out of his eyes and she noticed the scar. A scar almost like a lightning bolt, or like cracked glass. She would hold his bangs back to inspect such an odd scar. "That's a neat scar." She whispered. "How'd you get one like that?"
Harry gave her a sort of half-hearted shrug as he couldn't look her in the face.
Carrie lowered his hair and didn't push. Ricky would go back into the gas station while Carrie hung back and watched over Harry. "Can you tell me anything about your parents? Where'd they went without you?"
"...Not parents..." He would tell her in a soft voice. A voice with an accent that told her that maybe Harry wasn't from America. " 'Old me to stay and left." The toddler swallowed thickly.
Ricky returned and sat next to Harry. "I don't know if you can have this, but I got you this sandwich. It's egg salad." Ricky then showed him the white bread sandwich with a yellow egg salad that looked to be mostly mayo.
"I could get in trouble..." Harry was very cautious as he stared at the sandwich with a want, or maybe a need, but didn't dare take it from Ricky.
"Nah, you won't get in trouble. Go on, take the sandwich." Ricky urged again. "And if someone does get mad at you, they'll have to answer to me and I say: You can have a sandwich."
Harry reached for the sandwich, his little hands shaking. He watched Ricky's face for any sort of deception. When there was none, he would take the sandwich, open it, and happily took a big bite. He didn't seem to care what was in it, so long as he finally got to eat.
Carrie and Ricky would look at one another and it was decided then and there. Harry was coming home with them.
It wasn't an easy adoption. First, the police had to put a missing person report and try to track down just who abandoned poor Harry. Outside of Harry possibly being British, but having not remembered his own last name. He also didn't know just who abandoned him outside of "Aunt 'tunia and Uncle 'ernin."- his own words.- it was decided that he would just be an abandoned 'Harry Doe.'
Well, he's Harry Collins now.
and Harry Collins doesn't even remember 'Aunt 'tunia or Uncle 'Ernin.'... much.
Those nasty relatives, whoever they may be, haunt his dreams. Harry would often wake and run to their room when he was younger, he'd be in near hysterics begging, pleading with them not to lock him in the cupboard under the stairs.
They showed Harry many, many, many times that their house didn't even have a cupboard, just a pantry and that was in the kitchen, not under the steps.
Sometimes it wasn't the nasty relatives, but rather a dream about a light, bright and green, followed by a woman's scream. On those nights, Harry didn't come running to them, but rather would come in and stare at them. Scaring Carrie, and Ricky half to death each time they would wake up. When asked what he could possibly be doing, he'd always say: "Just making sure..." before leaving.
Long, long gone was the British accent, if it even was that. Still, despite her own personal efforts, information was limited across the pond. Hell, Carrie once tried going to the library to use one of those fancy computers in an attempt to see if he was maybe missing from the UK. Nothing ever came up.
It was fine, this just meant one thing in Carrie's eyes. God couldn't give them a natural born child, so he sent one late. That was all. Even if Harry had...moments.
Nothing bad, just strange little moments. Like his hair growing back, or the time Jayce and he were playing in the park and somehow Harry ended up at the top of a tree. Harry and Jayce both swore he didn't climb it, and honestly, Carrie was inclined to believe him. It was a giant fir tree, easily forty feet in the sky with no branches on the bottom. Ricky was not happy having to call the fire department that day as Harry clung to the very tip of the tree for dear life.
Regardless of these moments or not, Carrie and Ricky loved Harry with all of their hearts. He was their boy, their son. Blood be damned.