by Chloe Walsh
"No, it fucking is not!" Gibsie snapped, climbing up the old rickety ladder to join me in the newly floored treehouse. "We've been through this – that kid was a walking explosion, Johnny! The entire house was rigged to go up in flames the minute that psycho freak sparked that match," he continued to rant. "You saved four lives, lad. Four innocent lives – five, including yourself. Don't punish yourself, because you did more for that family than anyone else."
"I just feel so responsible," I choked out.
"Oh, you will be responsible," Gibsie shot back, eyes narrowed. "For me throwing you off this fucking tree if I ever hear that shit come out of your mouth again."
"I just –"
"You are not responsible!"
"But I –"
"Hughie, get me the hammer," Gibsie ordered. "I'm going to beat some sense into his big, stupid brain!"
"It's how I feel, lad," I snapped.
"Then your feelings are all fucked up!" Gibsie countered. "So, stop it!"
"Stop it?"
"Yes. Stop it," Gibsie growled. "Stop feeling like that. It's dumb. It's pointless. You're making yourself miserable. You're a fucking hero and if you don't cop on and get a fucking handle on yourself, you're going to be a dead hero because I'll kill you, Johnny. You know I'll do it!"
"Uh, that's probably not the best threat given the circumstances, Gibs," Hughie interjected.
"I know what it's like, Johnny," Gibsie barked. "I've been there, so I can tell you to stop. I have the right and the experience to tell you to get a fucking grip. You did what you could and you did a damn good job. Now enough. Stop torturing yourself. Dwelling won't change what happened to her. All it's going to change is what happens to you – present and future tenses."
I stared across the treehouse at him for a long moment before a reluctant smile pulled at my lips. "You'd be a fucking terrible counsellor, Gibs."
"You're smiling, aren't ya?" he shot back, giving me a lopsided grin.
"Very true," Feely mused from the ground, hammer in hand. "Do you need this?"
"That depends," Gibsie replied, keeping his eyes locked on mine. "Am I going to have to hammer some sense into you, Johnny?"
I shook my head in defeat. "No, you already did that, lad."
"Good." Gibsie nodded in approval. "And here's another thing that's going to happen. –" Swinging down from a branch, he landed on his feet and stretched before turning back to look up at me. "We're going to finish this treehouse. We're going to make it the best fucking revamp imaginable and put a smile back on those boys' faces. And then we're going to train, because you are going to be ready for those Irish coaches tomorrow morning."
"Gibs." I shook my head. "I can't go now –"
"You are fucking going, Johnny Kavanagh," he said, cutting me off, "if I have to strap you to my back and take you there myself! This is your future, and you're not throwing it away. No goddamn way in hell am I letting that happen."
"Jesus," I muttered, rubbing my jaw. "When did you get so bossy?"
Gibsie shrugged. "Sometimes Robin has to take the lead."
"Robin?" Hughie laughed. "Did you seriously just refer to yourself as Robin?"
"So, Cap's Batman and you're Robin?" Feely mused. "Hmm. Makes sense."
"You're so fucked in the head," Hughie snickered.
"Could be worse," Gibsie shot back with a grin. "We could be like you two."
"Oh yeah?" Hughie taunted. "And how's that?"
"Yeah," Gibsie agreed, smirking. "Bebop and Rocksteady."
"I'm not Bebop or Rocksteady!" Hughie huffed, looking offended. "If I'm anything, I'm Robin!"
"Uh-huh." Gibsie snickered. "And you say I'm fucked in the head? Yeah, okay, Bebop."
"That makes no sense," Hughie argued. "They're from two completely different cartoons."
"Exactly," Gibsie drawled. "Just like we're on two completely different levels." Grinning, he held his hand over his head and said, "I'm up here with your sister, and you're –" he dropped his hand to his waist. "all the way down here…"
"Feely, give me the hammer," Hughie snarled as he stalked towards Gibsie. "I'm going bury this fucker, once and for all."
70
I See You
Shannon
"Nanny is downstairs with Darren," I whispered, sitting on the edge of his bed, stroking his clammy forehead. "Do you want to go down and see her?"
He didn't respond. Instead, he just continued to tremble and clutch the pillow he had pressed to his stomach. At least he wasn't vomiting anymore. To be honest, I didn't think there was anything left inside of him to throw up. His eyes were vacant, hollow, green orbs in his head. Nothing seemed to be happening.
"Joe?"
Silence.
"Please talk to me," I begged, brushing his blond hair out of his eyes.
Nothing.
A tear dripped down his cheek and I reached over to swipe it away. "I love you." Leaning over, I pressed my cheek to his. "So much."
Unresponsive, he continued to lay on his side, facing the window and staring out at nothing in particular. The doctors had come and gone several times in the past few days since the fire. According to them, my brother was going through withdrawals. He'd admitted to Mrs. Kavanagh and Darren that he had been using serious drugs for months and months before I ended up in the hospital. I hadn't known. I hadn't picked up on the signs. He was also in shock, and I was terrified to leave his side in case he ran away again. Looking at him right now, I wasn't sure he had the energy to lift himself out of the bed, but I could never be sure with Joey. He was as unpredictable as an Irish summer.
They were taking him away soon. Once the funeral was over, he was going into a special hospital to make him better. Somewhere they could treat his addictions and his mental health. I didn't understand why he had to leave, and I didn't want him to go, but he had signed the paperwork himself just before he stopped talking. He wanted to leave, and I was terrified of Monday coming, because I honestly didn't know how I was going to survive all of this without him.
A soft knock came from the other side of the bedroom Joey was staying in and Mrs. Kavanagh's head popped through the crack in the door. "Hello, Shannon, love," she said, smiling warmly at me. "You have two visitors here to see you."
My breath hitched in my throat and I stiffened. I couldn't handle any more social workers or Gards. I was too tired. "I don't –"
"Claire and Lizzie," Mrs. Kavanagh hurried to explain. "They're downstairs in the sitting room, pet."
"I, uh…" I hesitated, not wanting to leave my brother. "Maybe… I shouldn't leave him on his –"
"And I have a visitor for you, too, Joey," Mrs. Kavanagh announced in a gentle tone. She pushed the door all the way open to reveal Aoife standing beside her. "Go on in, love."
I panicked at the sight of his girlfriend, knowing that the last time Joey spoke, he warned us to not let her in. He made Darren promise to keep her away. He didn't want her here. He didn't want her to see.
Joey remained completely motionless, still clutching the pillow, still staring out the window, as Aoife walked into the room. "You can't hide from me," she told him as she moved straight for him. "And you can't give up, either."
I watched him carefully, praying for some sort of reaction and then feeling a spike of relief shoot through me when he jerked at the sound of her voice.
Standing up, I hovered close to the bed, unwilling to leave him, eyes glued to Aoife as she sat down on the side of the bed he was facing. "My Joey," she whispered, cupping his cheek in her hand. "My baby."
A shudder rolled through him and he tightened his hold on the pillow, feet twitching sporadically.
Leaning her face close to his, she gently nuzzled him with her nose. "Come on back to me," she coaxed, whispering in his ear as she smoothed her hand over his hair and then his cheek and jaw. "Because I'm not giving you up."
He shook harder, limbs spasming, as a pained groan tore from his throat.
My eyes widened in shock. It was the firs
t noise he had made in days.
"I know," Aoife continued to whisper as she touched him and petted him like he was a small child. "You're in there, aren't you? Hmm?" She pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I see you, Joey Lynch." She stroked her nose against his and whispered, "You can't hide from me."
His hand shot out then, moving straight to her stomach.
"That's it," she encouraged, pulling his head onto her lap and cradling him there. "Come on back to me, baby."
Another pained noise tore from his throat and he buried his face in her stomach, shaking violently.
"It's okay," she whispered, leaning over his broad shoulders to hold him close. "You can't scare me away." Her blonde hair pillowed around them as she whispered, "You're mine, remember?"
"Come on, Shannon, pet," Mrs. Kavanagh cleared her throat and said and I tore my eyes off my brother to look at her. She smiled sadly. "Let's give Joey and Aoife some time on their own."
Reluctantly, I complied and followed Mrs. Kavanagh out of the room, watching as she closed the bedroom door behind us. Nervous and unsure, I trailed after her, feet faltering when we reached the top of the staircase and I heard all the different voices coming from downstairs. "I don't know," I blurted out, stalling.
"Hmm?" Mrs. Kavanagh turned back to look at me. "What did you say, pet?"
"I'm not sure," I strangled out, clutching the banister. I inclined my head to the stairs and shifted around uneasily. "There's a lot of people down there."
Mrs. Kavanagh's eyes filled with sympathy. "Oh, my little pet." She closed the space between us and pulled me into her arms. "You're safe with us."
"Do I have to go down there?" I whispered, shaking. "I'm scared."
"What are you scared of, Shannon?" she coaxed. "Hmm? Nothing's going to hurt you again, darling."
"Reality," I admitted. "Facing everyone."
"Reality can be daunting," she agreed, taking my hand in hers. "And facing it can be worse, but you're a strong girl." Smiling at me, she added, "And you can do this, Shannon Lynch. I know you can."
I blew out a shaky breath. "Really?"
Smiling, she nodded. "Really."
Exhaling a ragged breath, I released my grip of the bannister and walked down the stairs, clinging to her hand for all I was worth, knowing that this woman must have fallen clean out of heaven above because she wanted to help us. To keep us. All of us. I didn't understand her, I probably never would, but I knew I never wanted to leave this house. She was good and kind, and she made me feel safe.
"Is Johnny around?" I asked when I reached the bottom step, forcing myself to ask the question and feeling my heart beat rapidly from the pressure it was under.
"He's around, love," Mrs. Kavanagh replied. "He's down the back field with the boys."
I hadn't seen much of Johnny since that night. Everything was happening so quickly and I so afraid of leaving Joey alone that I hadn't spent any time with him. I was feeling his absence in the deepest part of me, which was ridiculous considering I was staying at his house.
"Should I call him?" Mrs. Kavanagh asked, dragging my thoughts back to the present. "He'll come straight back to the house, Shannon. I know he'd love to spend some time with you –"
"Oh, no, no," I hurried to say, releasing my hold on her hand. "It's okay, please don't bother him." Swallowing deeply, I forced a smile. "He's with his friends."
"Are you sure?" she asked, eyeing me with concern. "I know you wouldn't be bothering him in the slightest."
No. "I'm sure," I croaked out, clasping my hands together. "I'll, uh, I'll go say hi to the girls now, if that's okay?"
"Of course." Taking a step back, she waved me towards the sitting room. "You don't need to ask anyone's permission."
"Thank you," I told her in a voice thick with emotion. Spinning around before I lost it, I forced myself to breathe slowly as I made my way down the fancy hallway and slipped inside the sitting room.
My bravery, resolve, and grip on my emotions floated away from my grasp the moment I laid eyes on my two best friends.
"Shan," Claire cried, jerking up from the couch.
"Oh, Shan," Lizzie choked out, joining her.
"I'm so sorry about your parents," Claire whispered.
"Me, too," Lizzie whispered. "Are you okay?"
My face contorted in pain and I shook my head before rushing towards them.
"We're here," they both whispered, throwing their arms around me. "We're not leaving you."
The floodgates inside of my heart opened and I just let it all out, pouring every ounce of pain and heartache out of my system before it crippled me to the point of no return.
71
Hammers and Her
Johnny
We were putting the finishing touches to the treehouse when Ollie's voice echoed up from the ground. "Whoa," he gasped, staring up at the four of us with a look of awe on his face. "That's the biggest treehouse I've ever seen!" He shook his head. "In my whole entire life."
"You like it?" I called back to him, leaning over the railing we'd added to the edge. "Pretty nice, huh?"
"Which one is he?" Feely whispered.
"Ollie," I replied quietly.
"He's my favorite," Gibsie announced.
"Hey, Ollie," Feely said, waving down at him.
"Yeah, hey, lad," Hughie added, popping up.
"Hi." He waved at the lads as his gaze trailed over the treehouse. "It's so cool, Johnny!" A huge smile spread across his face. "What are you guys doing up there?"
"We're having a secret meeting," Gibsie piped up. "Over-seventeens only, kid."
Ollie's face fell and I shook my head before turning to glare at Gibsie who was balmed-out on his back in the treehouse, smoking his brains out. "You bleeding eejit." Turning back to Ollie, I smiled down at him and said, "Don't mind him, Ollie. We made this for you and your brothers."
"You did?" His eyes widened. "Really?"
I nodded. "Yeah, so go and get Tadhg."
"Whoa!" Spinning on his heels, Ollie darted back through the field towards the house, screaming, "Tadhg!" at the top of his lungs. "You gotta come see this!"
"I don't want to give it up," Gibsie groaned, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "I love this treehouse."
"You are the biggest child I've ever met that never grew up," Feely muttered.
"But it's so nice," Gibsie huffed. "And now we have to hand it over."
"I'm sure they'll let you visit," I shot back, rolling my eyes. "Now put that cigarette out before they come back."
Less than three minutes later, Tadhg and Ollie came running through the field back to us.
"Holy shit!" Tadhg choked out when he reached the tree. His puffy eyes were wide in astonishment. "You guys seriously built this?"
"I told you," Ollie said proudly. "They made it for us."
"You did?" Tadhg frowned. "Why?"
"Because we were feeling generous," Gibsie drawled, climbing down the ladder. "And I expect free access whenever I want."
"It must be sturdy," Tadhg mused, casting a sideways glance at Gibsie. "To hold your weight."
"I'm not fat!" Gibsie huffed. "I'm a flanker! I'm supposed to be stocky. I'm all muscle. I'll show ya –"
"Jesus," I muttered, climbing down after him. "Keep your clothes on, Gibsie."
"Flanker," Tadhg snickered, darting up the ladder once Feely and Hughie had climbed down. "More like wanker."
"Oh now, he's my favorite," Hughie laughed.
"I'm going to lose my shit with that kid," Gibsie grumbled as he chased Tadhg back up the ladder. "You're twelve," he panted, climbing into the treehouse. "You're supposed to be a sweet child, not a little monster."
"If I was sweet, you might try and eat me," Tadhg shot back. "And you've clearly eaten enough."
"For the last time, I am not fat," Gibsie growled. "I'm big boned – there's a huge difference."
"Huge," Tadhg snickered, clearly enjoying the banter. "You've got that right."
"I can't deal with this kid
," Gibsie growled.
"It's okay, Gibsie," Ollie said, joining them in the treehouse. "I don't think you're fat."
"Thank you, Ollie," Gibsie sniffed. "It's nice to know there's one nice kid around the place."
"That's 'cause I'm sweet," Ollie replied innocently. "Dellie says so."
"Will you lads be alright out here by yourselves if we head inside for a bit?" I called up to them.
"Oh, I'm never coming down," Ollie shouted back. "So I'm super okay."
"Hey, Johnny?" Tadhg called out, poking his head over the railing.
"Yeah?"
"Uh, thanks." His cheeks reddened. "For this."
"You're welcome."
"And, uh, for the other part, too," he croaked out, brown eyes trained on mine. "The coming to get us part."
"Yeah." I swallowed deeply and nodded. "No problem."
"Tadhg, look," Ollie squealed and Tadhg disappeared from sight. "It's a tennis scope."
"A what?"
"A tennis scope."
"Telescope," I heard Tadhg sigh. "Gibsie, give him a turn, will ya? He's only nine."
"Come on, Gibs," I chuckled, scratching the back of my head. "I'll make you a sandwich."
"Fine, but I want it toasted and a packet of crisps," Gibsie grumbled. "Oh, hold up – we forgot our tools."
"I swear he's stuck in his seven-year-old mind," Hughie mused.
"You're probably right," Feely agreed. "He hasn't changed much since we made our Communion."
"Timber –"
Bang.
"Ah, Jesus Christ!" I roared out, clutching the back of my head as pain ricocheted through my scalp. Glancing around me, I spotted the hammer on the grass and blanched. "What the fuck, Gibs?" I snarled, glaring up at the big bastard who was peeking over the railing. "Timber? What's that supposed to mean?"