Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Like it always did when he was like this, everything seemed hilarious. He sniggered into the cider can, which by now had warmed to the temperature of the mild summer’s evening. 

“The stupid bitch, she didn’t see it coming!” Tommy laughed in a too loud voice as he downed his own can. 

Spider liked Tommy, he did. He’d been his best friend for ages, but he also knew that Tommy wasn’t his best self after a drink. He was older than him by two years, and seemed to draw the attention of a lot of guys like themselves: lost, unsupervised kids that needed someone to ringlead them. Spider had known Tommy since they were small, but Tommy had a much wider circle of ‘friends’ they hung out with now. 

“Who’s trying next?” Spider asked.

“It’s deffo your turn Spi!” Tommy laughed. “When’s the last time you actually came through?”

It was true, Spider had one of the worst track records of trying to buy alcohol out of all of them. “Chalk it up to my young features,” he grinned, the cider making it all seem funny. The other boys laughed but no one else stepped forward either. Just as he was about to resign himself to trying, he heard a loud bleeping behind him, and on the group’s faces were matching expressions of fear and panic. Confused, he turned around to look down the street and squinted into the bright light of the setting sun. A bright red and blue light slid down the street towards them. “Fuck,” he groaned as the boys scrambled to disperse. Spider must have been more pissed than he realised, because his reaction times were appalling slower than everyone else’s. By the time he’d turned back around to follow them, they’d disappeared. And so he found himself standing face to face with the cop car that was about to ruin his whole night. 

Knowing he was screwed, he quickly cast his empty cider can to the side of the street, hopelessly watching it roll away noisily as the police officer stepped out of the car. 

The man was tall - big even for the haughty type that liked to hold power over civilians. He walked over slowly, surveying the scene of the crime while Spider swallowed a sarcastic greeting. 

“What have we here?” the officer asked. The sun was just setting and the refracted light on the horizon was shining directly into Spider’s eyes, making it near impossible to make out the cop’s face. 

“I was just walking home, officer,” he said through narrowed eyes. 

“Uh huh. Where’s the rest of your little gang run off to?”
Spider cursed whichever nosey do-gooder had called the cops on them. Some people were just incapable of minding their damn business and intent on ruining life for the rest of them. “I don’t know, sir.”

The bright lights from the car combined with the sunset made him sway where he stood, stumbling to catch himself from falling over. 

“Woah, easy there, tiger. How much have you had?” The cop’s partner exited the vehicle at that point, whom Spider could see a little more clearly. The man was also tall, but he was wearing sunglasses to shield from the sunset. 

“I haven’t been drinking, sir.”

“Is that right?” the other officer said, sauntering up the sidewalk and picking up the cider cans that were hastily discarded by the boys. 

“It wasn’t me,” he replied immediately, but he thought he might have slurred the words. 

The two officers looked at each other before the initial cop sighed. “Alright kid, let’s take you home.”

Spider immediately took a step back. Damnit. Why couldn’t they have just given him a warning? 

“What’s your name?”

“Spider.”

It was a second before the other officer spoke. When he did, he sounded amused. He still hadn’t taken off his shades. “Spider, huh? And what’s your real name?”

Spider groaned, throwing his head back and taking another step away from the officers. “I don’t have one.”

“Okay, Spider,” the first cop replied. “I’m Officer Quaritch and this here is Officer Mansk. Do you have an address?” 

Spider shook his head from side to side. “Nope.” Let them try and get the information out of him. As soon as they found out he was a runaway they’d just arrest him anyway. 

Officer Quaritch raised an eyebrow. “Come on, kid. Time to level with us. Let’s get you home and we might not have to take things any further.”

Spider brought a hand up frustratedly to run it through his tangled hair. He was between a rock and a hard place. “I don’t…” he tried to explain, but he was interrupted by a wave of nausea which he swallowed down forcefully. He wasn’t that drunk, and the shock of nearly vomiting and being caught by the cops suddenly made him panicked. 

“Come and sit in the car,” the officer said firmly, extending a hand to Spider’s back and guiding him towards the back seat. Don’t get in the car. 

“I’m fine, really. I’m real sorry, I won’t do it again,” he tried, but the cop had got him to the door and Spider realised he didn’t have a choice anymore. Internally whining, he sat down in the backseat, throwing his head back against the leather. 

Once the officers had shut the door and got into the front, they turned around to face him. “Alright, let’s try again. Where’s home?”

Spider bit his lip, almost considering telling them the last kids home he’d run away from. But he didn't want to go to juvie, and he felt sure that once the cops turned up at the kids home with a runaway, CPS would determine he couldn’t stay there. They’d send him somewhere he wasn’t a flight risk. 

“I’m in care,” he mumbled. 

The officers looked at each other again, and Quaritch’s mouth formed a sympathetic line. He didn’t want their pity, but if it got him out of this, he’d be willing to accept every ounce. “I can’t go back,” he admitted. 

“Okay,” Quaritch nodded, looking understanding. Still, Spider knew better than to trust they’d take him at his word. “Why not?”

Spider brought his legs up on the seat to hug his knees. “It’s not good,” he tried to explain. “I’m better off on my own.” A surge of desperation swept through him, sick of feeling vulnerablity. “Just let me go, please. I’ll pay a fine, I’ll do whatever.”

“You’ll pay a fine, huh?” Officer Mansk asked. “And how are you gonna do that?”

“I have a job,” Spider lied.

Quaritch smirked softly. “This ain’t a negotiation, kid. We need an address or we’ll have no choice but to take you to the station while you try and remember.”

“Fine,” Spider said harshly, shrugging his shoulders as if he couldn’t care less. Inside, he was dying. 

After a confused couple of seconds in which Quaritch and Mansk both seemed surprised at Spider’s choice, Quaritch asked, “Really?”

Spider nodded, avoiding eye contact and pursing his lips to stop himself from crying. 

Quaritch heaved a long sigh and finally replied. “Okay, your choice.”

“Put your seatbelt on,” Mansk instructed as Quaritch started the car and pulled out. Spider did so without replying, staring out at the now twilight street as his mind raced with how he could possibly get out of this one. 

It was only ten minutes’ drive to the station, but Spider didn’t say a word the whole time. When they pulled up, the officers stepped outside the car. Spider expected them to open his door straight away, but the two stayed talking for a minute before Mansk headed back inside the station and Quaritch slid back into the driver’s seat, making them alone in the car. “We really doing this?” he asked. 

“I don’t want to either,” Spider said angrily.

“How old are you?”

Why was the officer prolonging this? Spider was thrown by the question but answered honestly. “Fifteen.”

“You already got a criminal record?”

Spider shook his head no. 

“Do you want one?”

He raised his head to glare at Quaritch. 

“Because I don’t see a criminal. I see a scared little boy who doesn’t know how to get on the right track.”

That… stung a little. It definitely wasn’t what he had been expecting from a cop. 

“Taking you in for underage drinking is not something that would benefit you or society, and everything in me is telling me it’s the wrong thing to do.” Spider raised his head in hope. “That being said, you’re being real shady and I can’t just let you go without knowing you’re gonna be safe.”

Spider’s heart had started to beat faster in his chest. Was the guy going to let him off? He swallowed nervously as he waited for Quaritch’s judgement. 

The cop considered him for a moment, clearly trying to make his mind up. “If I let you off, where are you gonna go?”

Spider thought. Truthfully, he would head back to the park where he knew the gang would come at some point later that evening. From there, they’d drink more if they could get it or simply hang out until the early hours, before dispersing to their nighttime activities or different sleeping spots. But that wasn’t what Quaritch wanted to hear. “There’s a homeless shelter on Fifth,” he mumbled awkwardly. 

“Okay,” Quaritch replied, a positive lilt to his voice. “Now we’re talking. You got anyone you need to contact? Foster parents?”

Spider shook his head. 

“You seem like a good kid caught in an unlucky situation.” Spider daren’t raise his eyes to look at the officer. “So this is what’s gonna happen. I’m gonna drive you over to the shelter, make sure you get inside in one piece, and then you’re gonna take them up on the help. Got it?”

He nodded, barely believing his luck. “Thank you,” he said.

Quaritch radioed to his partner, then started up the car again and they were off. Spider wondered whether Quaritch was going to lie to the other officer, whether he’d get in trouble for letting him go. He hoped not. He was still in disbelief that the guy had taken pity on him. 

“This the place?” Quaritch asked five minutes later, when they rolled up to the shabby front of the homeless shelter. 

Spider nodded. “Thanks,” he said again as he reached for the door. 

“Ah ah, just a moment, hotshot.” Quaritch turned to face him once more, putting an arm out to block Spider’s exit. “A kid like you shouldn’t be hanging around street corners dabbling in drink. That leads to a long road you don’t wanna go down. Wherever you’ve run from, think about going back. It can’t be worse than the path you’re already on.”

Spider didn’t know what else to do apart from nod obediently. Quaritch huffed and removed the arm that blocked Spider’s exit. 

“And Spider,” he called out once the kid was out of the car. “I don’t wanna be seeing you again, you understand me?”

“Yes, sir,” Spider replied, before making his way very obviously towards the scant and depressing farce of the shelter. 

The next time Spider came face to face with the cops, he wasn’t so lucky. He knew he fucked up when the alarm blared out as soon as he crossed the threshold of the store. “Shit,” he whispered, ducking his head and clutching the iPad case tighter under his hoodie. It was important not to run straight away, because you may as well hold up a massive sign saying, ‘It’s me, I’m the thief’. Often, the alarm goes off by mistake or some poor worker just forgot to take the tag off something that had been bought legitimately. 

So he kept walking… until one of the customers shouted after him, loudly declaring his guilt for all the world to hear. “It’s him… He’s got something!”

Spider took off. Why couldn’t people mind their damn business? The adrenaline carried him through the mall at a lightning pace, but someone was giving chase behind. Shit, he had to lose them. People stared as he ran past or barged through, and Spider panicked. He glanced over his shoulder to see a mall security guard only a few metres away. He turned back around with increased vigour, heart pounding like a drum in his chest. 

Slam!

Right into the back of the firm and unyielding figure of someone stupid enough to get in the way. Winded, Spider immediately shoved past them, before he noted that the person was wearing a very familiar shade of deep navy blue, matching with their partner. Fucking hell, of course he had to go and run straight into a pair of goddamn cops. He scrambled, before the cops had a chance to turn around and grab him, and made off in the other direction, down a side street that led to a residential area away from town. It was hard to run and keep a hold of the iPad, but if he dropped it now this would all be for nothing. He needed the money. 

He kept going, but by now his chest was starting to hurt and the adrenaline was wearing off. To his dismay however, came shouts from behind him. “Stop right there!” the cops called. The authority in their voices made Spider afraid. He couldn't get caught. He’d go to juvie for sure. 

He threw the iPad aside, no longer caring about this week’s meals, the hunger in his belly nothing compared to the prospect of jail. He put on one final burst of energy, heading through another deserted alley in the hopes of losing the cops in the next block over…

Wham! Something heavy collided with him from behind with full force, knocking him to the ground instantly and sending the breath from his lungs. “Stay on the floor!” There was a familiarity in the voice…

He gasped on the concrete, trying to crawl away from the threat, but the officer was on him, and before he knew it his hands were being pulled behind him and he was in cuffs, powerless to do anything. 

“Easy kid, you’re down!”

“Take a breath, don’t make me arrest you.”

The officer whose voice Spider recognised had his knee pressed into Spider’s back, but as Spider stopped writhing, he relinquished his weight and helped Spider sit up against the wall. 

“Shit,” Spider said, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. 

“I recognise you,” officer Quaritch said slowly, tilting his head to the side. Spider glanced at him and straight away placed him as the cop that had let him off last month. He had no idea if this was a positive coincidence or not. He knew about Spider’s previous offence but was also sympathetic. 

“You’re that kid without a name or address.”

Spider bit back a retort about the fact he’d told them his name, and just held his tongue. 

“This him?” The second officer sauntered over, surveying Spider as he sat on the curb. The guy was almost as tall as Quaritch, bald, and exuding confidence. 

Quaritch looked at Spider as if waiting for him to reply. “What’s the matter huh? Cat got your tongue?” He crouched down to Spider’s level because Spider refused to give him eye contact. Better to just wait for his fate. “How d’you end up here, Spider?”

That caught Spider’s attention. He had no idea the guy remembered his name. He huffed. It was far too degrading to admit that he just needed money for food. “I wasn’t stealing it for me,” he tried. 

“That right?” the other officer said, smirking. “You got a side piece waiting somewhere?”

“Wainfleet,” Quaritch said sharply, before casting his gaze back over Spider and sighing. “What am I gonna do with you?”

You could let me go. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have stolen it.” 

“Why did you?”

Spider shrugged. 

“I don’t understand why you didn’t reach out at the shelter. They can help. You gotta be hungry but you don’t need to resort to theft.”

Spider so badly wanted to roll his eyes. He didn’t need the lecture. He didn’t regret taking the tablet, he just regretted getting caught. The world was unfair and he had no other means to feed himself. “Yep,” he said. 

“Things are serious now, kid. Where are your parents?” 

“Mom’s dead. God knows who the sperm donor was.”

“Okay,” Quaritch said. “And your foster parents?”

“I told you I don’t have any. And I’m not going back to the kids' home. It’s worse than the streets.”

Officer Wainfleet clicked his tongue. “We got ourselves a problem then kid. We can’t just let you go. How old are you?”

“Sixteen.”

Quaritch looked at him with a frown. “I thought you were fifteen?”

Spider wanted to die from embarrassment. “It was my birthday last week.” He deliberately looked at Wainfleet instead, because it was easier than staring into Quaritch’s pitying eyes. He saw Wainfleet’s eyebrows raise hopefully. “What day?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he said harshly, and it came out far more disrespectful than he’d intended. All three of them caught it, and he instantly regretted his choice of words. He needed them on side if he was ever getting out of these cuffs. 

“Okay,” Quaritch said in an attempt to diffuse the situation. “We let you off last time. But we can’t do that a second time. And since you’re still tight lipped…” he trailed off, as if not wanting to finish the sentence. “You don’t leave us with a choice. You’re under arrest for theft and evading police custody.” It took everything in Spider to not groan. “You do not have to say anything but everything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand?” 

“Yes.”

“Let’s get you up,” Quaritch said, reaching forward to help Spider balance. Spider didn’t even have it in him to shake the guy off. He was completely done for. 

That was it. He was going to have a criminal record for the rest of his life. A hollow feeling spread all throughout his body, leaving him feeling like a hollow shell. It was with a numbness that he allowed himself to be put in the car. When Quaritch reached over to put Spider’s seatbelt on for him, he pressed his lips together to stop himself from crying, turning his head away. It was a deflated car ride back to the station, with only Wainfleet trying to raise the energy with his stupid commentary from the driver's seat. 

“First time eh?” he asked, grinning like Spider had achieved something. When Spider didn’t reply, the moron continued. “You’re in for it now, kid. You gotta watch your back in there.”

Spider screwed his face up in disgust, though he didn’t retort.

“It’s real disappointing, y’a know? You just screwed up your shot at life.” 

“That’s enough,” Quaritch said, glancing over his shoulder. He heaved a sigh before turning back around when Spider gave him nothing. “You’ll be fine, kid.”

Spider didn’t think it could be any further from fine, but he rested his head against the window and tried to focus on the scenery passing by, rather than the dread that filled his stomach at the thought of jail time. 

When they pulled up, Spider waited for Wainfleet to open the door for him. The awful nervousness that had been swirling around his belly now clawed its way into his throat at the thought of having to enter the precinct in handcuffs. “Out you get,” Wainfleet said without sympathy, and Quaritch rounded the car to escort him inside the station. Spider’s entire body seethed in humiliation as people passed them on the steps, staring. The looks on their faces made him feel like the scum of the earth. He took a deep breath, knowing that all he could do now was hold it together with as much dignity as he was capable of. 

Inside the station was bright but clinically clean. They walked up to a high desk with Quaritch’s hand around his bicep. “Good afternoon,” the officer behind the desk greeted him imperiously before gesturing in a friendly manner to Quaritch. “What have we got here, Colonel?”

“Shoplifting,” Quaritch answered. “He went for a tablet and ran for it. It’s quite a coincidence we even apprehended him. First time,” he added in a low voice, as if that would make the clerk feel more sympathetic. 

“What’s your name and date of birth, son?” the clerk looked at Spider expectantly.

Spider stared hard at the desk.

“He won’t give a name or address. Seems to think we won’t find out.” 

The clerk’s eyebrows raised disapprovingly. “Right, not to worry at all.” He tilted his head to the side to try and garner Spider’s attention. “It really makes no difference to us, you know. You’ll just sit in a cell until you remember. And it actually makes things easier for you if you’ve got someone we can contact. So from where I’m sitting, the best thing you can do right now is be honest.” 

Spider repressed the urge to roll his eyes at the officer. Why did none of them understand? “I don’t have anyone.” 

“Now I know that’s not true,” the officer pressed. He said it with such authority it patronised Spider to his core. “You don’t look older than sixteen. I can guarantee that someone - your parents or carers - will be out there worried, even if you think they’re not.”

Quaritch heaved a sigh. “I’ve run into him before,” he explained. “He’s a runaway.”

“I see,” the officer said, nodding as if he understood. “Well, you’ve been bought in for theft, was it? And you’ve never been arrested before? I’ll read you your rights again and then explain what happens from here.”

As the man read, Spider’s insides continued to twist and coil. This was important information that he needed to pay attention to, however he was so drained that he couldn’t bring himself to respond. Each wave of information crashed over him with renewed humiliation. “...collect your belongings on your release…” His arms and shoulders were aching from the cuffs. Somewhere in the middle of it, he felt Quaritch place his strong hand on his shoulder. Whether to reassure or reprimand, Spider couldn’t tell. 

It seemed that Spider was going to be held for 24 hours, after which he could be charged or released. Regardless of the decision, the arrest would stay on his record for his whole life. If charged, he could face between 6 months and 7 years. 

“Do you understand what I’ve said?”

He nodded. 

“Right then. Now’s the part where the cuffs come off,” the clerk explained, but Quaritch was already moving behind him, retrieving the key. Spider flexed his wrists, revelling in the release of his shoulder muscles. “Please place all your belongings, which includes everything on you including your shoelaces into this bag,” the clerk continued, placing a clear plastic bag on the desk in front of them. “I’ll repeat again that you’re a minor so you’re entitled to an appropriate adult to be here with you.”

“It’s fine,” Spider said, stepping on one foot to retrieve his tattered shoelace. “I already told you there’s no one.”

Once his pockets were empty and his apparent suicide risk mitigated enough, Quaritch turned to him. “This is where I leave you, kid.”

Spider halted, confused about what he was supposed to respond with. His natural instinct had been to thank the man, but that was ridiculous. This was the guy who arrested him. A few feet away, Wainfleet was waiting on a bench by the vending machine.

“Good luck. Don’t make me see you again.”

“Right,” Spider huffed. He was led through a security scanner and then his prints and mouth swab taken. Anyone would have thought he was involved in an elaborate heist instead of just a stupid case of shoplifting. 

He shivered as they led him through a locked door and down a bleak corridor lined with cells. He pulled his hoodie tighter around his body. 

The detention officer was a stout yet firm woman, who showed him to his cell without any small talk. “Knock if you need anything,” she said before closing the door with a resounding clunk. At the sound of the lock sliding Spider felt his heart sink several inches inside his chest. 

He was alone.

“Get off’a me!” he snapped. 

A hand was rummaging about his coat pocket, not bothering to be discreet. He rolled over defensively and hit out in his panic, striking the stranger’s arm. His hand went reflexively to his inside pocket where he kept his phone… 

Only it wasn’t there anymore. 

He tried to prize his eyelids open further, but they were heavy and his mind was filled with that swirling fog that stopped him from thinking straight. Someone had been here, someone had robbed him… He instinctively felt for the gold charm that hung around his neck. It was still there.

“Bastard!” he shouted as his limbs crashed back into the cold, hard sidewalk and he gave up on the world. He passed out once more. 

When he woke up, he didn’t remember. A painful hunger in his belly prized him from the sanctity of sleep while the aches of sleeping rough racked his limbs. He blinked his dreary eyes open, still wrapped in the thin cocoon he’d made with a blanket. A few feet away, someone had dropped a cigarette butt. He watched it for a minute, letting his mind catch up to his body after last night’s high. He should sit up, but really what was the point? Sitting up meant he’d have to face another day of this shit show. 

Groaning almost inaudibly, he put aside the depressing thought and heaved himself up against the shopfront. His phone was dead - it had been for ages - but he reached for it instinctively anyway. Only to find it missing. In a panic, he moved his blanket aside and scoured the floor, reaching into every pocket he had. But his phone was nowhere. “Fuck,” he whispered, knowing that something like this was bound to happen eventually. He’d made himself too vulnerable. 

It didn’t particularly matter, he tried to remind himself. His phone was dead and he didn’t have a way of charging it unless he wanted to get caught shoplifting again. Besides, no one was going to contact him. 

He pushed himself to his feet and begrudgingly bundled up the blanket. He started every morning the same these days: by walking around town to stretch out his aching muscles. After that, he’d try to source some breakfast. If it was a Monday, Wednesday or Friday he’d head to the shelter. At the weekend he usually tried the Gurdwara. On Tuesdays and Thursdays he just went without. Sometimes he’d see other homeless he recognised, but talking to the volunteers was far more enjoyable than trying to make friends with people on the streets. Especially when any one of them could have been the person that robbed him last night. 

“Morning, Spider!” Priya greeted cheerily as she saw him approach the serving table. “How are you doing?”

“Same old,” he tried to pull a smile from somewhere. It was warm in the community centre and he was getting a meal. 

“Do you want regular milk or soya?” she asked, gesturing to the porridge options between them. 

“Um, regular is fine. Thanks. What time is it, by the way?” 

She pulled her phone out. “Just gone eight. By the way, you should know - we’re having a clothes donation tomorrow at three. If you’re interested.”

“Thanks,” he replied awkwardly. He still struggled with his shame, and he wished he didn’t. He had nothing to be ashamed of. He gratefully took the bowl of porridge and plonked himself down on the cushion that was furthest away from the sliding doors. The chill had just started to set in for winter and frankly he was glad of the chance to get a new, thicker coat tomorrow. If they opened at three, he’d have to be here at one if he stood a chance at getting any of the good stuff. 

The doors slid open as an older man in his sixties shuffled in. Spider shivered as the cold air travelled towards him. Half of it was in his head, he was convinced. His thoughts turned to last night’s events as he ate his breakfast. It was the first time he’d ever tried something that intense. He was pretty seasoned at the lower grade stuff and when someone offers you something for free, you’d be hard convinced to turn it down. 

Tommy had been getting into this kind of shit for a while now, but yesterday he dragged Spider along with him, shuffling back from the dealer with a tiny packet of white powder. “You need to try it, bro.”

“I really don’t think I do.”

Tommy fixed him with a disapproving look, beseeching him with his eyes to join in. That was all it took for Spider’s will to snap. What harm would one bite do? It’s not like he was gonna get hooked. 

The high was phenomenal. It felt like a rush of pure light spreading through his body, making him weightless and invincible. He could do anything.  

Anything apart from guard the last belongings he had left, apparently. 

He was expecting to feel worse than he did when he woke up. Frankly, he felt perfectly normal after his walk and with the warm porridge settling in his stomach. He was glad he tried it, but he felt no sudden desperation to do so again. 

Once his time was up at the community shelter, he waved bye to Priya and headed back into the chill, swiping an empty coffee cup from the machine on his way out. He spent most of the rest of the day sitting outside a busy storefront with the cup in front. It was a reasonable day - by the time it fell dark he’d made eight dollars and something. He didn’t mind sitting too badly. He liked to people watch, imagining each person’s backstory and what they were on their way to do. He liked to picture their homes and families, coming up with elaborate stories that he hoped were in at least some cases accurate. 

Once night had properly fallen and most people had retired home for the day, Spider made his way back to one his preferred sleeping spots - it was an archway on a line of shops that sat opposite a park. There was a security camera over the nearest shopfront, and a streetlamp nearby which gave him an added sense of security so that if he got murdered, at least they’d see who did it. 

Not wanting to make the same mistake that he did yesterday, he stuffed the day’s change between his two pairs of socks. He couldn’t imagine anyone would find it there, even if they tried to take his shoes. He wrapped his blanket around him and huddled down for the night. 

After a while, the sound of footsteps on the deserted street alerted Spider and he looked up, tense. Someone was approaching him - a broad shouldered guy who looked to be in his late twenties. 

“Hey man,” the guy called out.

Spider tensed, ready to flee at a moment’s notice. 

“I saw you yesterday. You’re Tommy’s bud, right?”

Spider frowned. Then it hit him. Oh lord, this was Tommy’s dealer. “Er, so what?”

“How d’you like the snow?” 

Spider stared at him. 

The man seemed to have realised he was being upfront, because he shook his head apologetically. “Don’t stress, I’m only asking because I can see you’re down on your luck.” He seemed like he was genuinely interested - almost kind in the way he asked. For a drug dealer, Spider was expecting a bit more intimidation. 

“Er… it was good…” Spider even wondered if this was some sort of sting operation, half expecting police to jump out of the bushes and arrest him for admitting he’d taken it. 

“Look, I feel bad. I’ve looked after Tommy for a while, and… you’re his mate and you’re going through it.” His eyes flickered over the dirty blanket covering Spider’s knees. “Take this,” he held out a small, plastic bag filled with what looked like the same stuff as yesterday, pushing it gently into Spider’s hand before he could reject it. “No strings, nothing like that. If I can help even in the form of a twenty minute high… I’ll feel better about myself. Please, take it. I don’t expect anything from you.”

Spider held the bag, looking between it and the man, lost for words. Eventually he scowled. “Are you a cop?”

The man’s face transformed in shock and bemusement. “God, no! I promise. Ask Tommy.”

Spider bit his lip. “You really don’t want anything?” 

“That’s what I said. I used to be in your position myself, so I know what it’s like. Just stay safe, yeah?” He stood up from his crouching position and made to walk away, but Spider called out. 

“Wait!” Why did he do that? He should just let the shady man piss off. “Er… thanks,” he said, not really sure why he was saying it. 

“If you ever want more, the name’s Flynn.” He smiled and nodded, before walking away into the darkness. 

Spider sat with it for several minutes, trying to process the encounter. He definitely should not take whatever was in the bag. Logically it wouldn’t be safe at all, but the man had seemed genuine and not at all what Spider would have expected. He could see the guy working in a bank or something by day; he was well dressed and well spoken. It made Spider trust him, even though he knew he shouldn’t. 

If yesterday’s high was anything to go by, this new dose should be amazing. He pursed his lips, trying to decide. The powder lay innocently at the bottom of the packet. There was no way he was going to get hooked - he’d proven that last night when he woke up perfectly fine.

It was stupid and reckless, but frankly, Spider was bored. 

He opened the bag. 

***

“Kid? Kid?” 

The world was far away. Spider was apart from it. Spider was in his own world. A better one. A warm one. 

“Holy shit…”

Spider grimaced. Why was there a voice distracting him from his world? He didn’t want to hear it. He wanted to be separate. Alone. Let it go away, he hummed. He sank deeper back into comfort. 

“Kid, wake up…”

It suddenly felt like a long while later. How much time had passed since he was first interrupted? He wasn’t happy about this. 

Then, out of the blue, a wave of nausea washed over him, pulling him back into his body and forcing himself to take control of himself again by rolling onto his side as he vomited. Being on his side was new information to him. Why was he on his side? He was supposed to be floating… 

“Easy, tiger…” 

He didn’t like being sick. It felt bad. He tried to blink open his eyes, but harsh light was assaulting his pupils. It sobered him slightly - enough to make him aware that someone much bigger than him was crouching over him, trying to talk to him. The words weren’t making much sense though. Just leave me alone. 

Eventually, he became aware of a different voice. A female one. Gentler. Though the words were still floating around his head and not into his brain, he could tell she was kind. Trying to help him, perhaps. 

He didn’t need help, did he? He tried to take stock. Where am I? He found he didn’t know. 

Panic, panic flared briefly in his stomach, giving him enough adrenaline to open his eyes again. It was blurry, but a woman’s face was looking down at him, someone he didn’t know, and in the background was someone else. In his panic, he’d already forgotten that the woman’s voice was kind. Or perhaps he just didn’t make the connection between the woman and the voice from earlier. 

“Get off me!”

He was so confused. The timelessness of the situation was throwing him into deeper panic. He felt like he’d crash landed back to Earth after a million year long holiday, unable to recognise the world around him.  

“Spider? I’m trying to help you.” The voice was firm enough to cut through his brain fog. He tried to focus on the woman’s face, but the lenses in his eyes weren’t cooperating. “You’re okay. Can you tell me what you took?”

What he took… what he took . Spider didn’t know what he took. He guessed that would make sense as to why he was like this. Another wave of nausea overtook him and he retched. This time, he was aware of a firm hand rubbing his back. 

“Let’s get you into the ambulance. I need you to stand up. I’ll help you.”

Spider focused on her words, even if he couldn’t acknowledge that he’d heard them just yet. “Fuck,” he gasped out, wincing as he tried to maneuver his limbs how he wanted. The woman was speaking firmly, giving him consistent instructions and eventually, he found himself laying on something much softer than the floor. 

The effort and exertion had tired his weakened muscles out. He lay his head back, allowing his eyes to flutter closed again. He was so close to drifting off, back into that peaceful realm he so desperately wanted to crawl back to. 

“We’ll meet you at the ER,” a male voice was saying. The memory of it tugged at Spider’s sub-conscious. There was something familiar about it…

Then the noise of doors slamming and the vibration of an engine starting. Spider didn’t have the willpower to stay with it for a moment longer. He let his brain sink lower and lower until all that was left was darkness. 

***

It was a slow process, coming back down to Earth. There were a lot of missing spaces in his brain, but what he did know by 3 o’clock that afternoon as he lay in the hospital bed was that whatever he’d been given last night was not the same as that which he’d taken with Tommy. The after effects for starters had been horrific. He was better now, but he must have retched his guts out between the street and the ward. His throat was sore from it. The brain fog wasn’t entirely gone, but he was at least lucid while he contemplated what the hell had happened. 

One of the nurses told him that the cops had found him passed out. They’d called the ambulance and were going to come by soon to question him. Upon hearing this, Spider immediately made to get up, but the nurse seemed to expect this reaction and was quick to reassure him. 

“Wait, they said they just want to talk to you.”

Well Spider didn’t need to talk to them. He’d had enough run-ins with the law already, and this was the last thing he needed. “Come on,” he urged the nurse with a roll of his eyes. “You don’t believe that do you?”

But whether she did nor not, Spider never found out, because at that moment a knock on the door interrupted them. Spider’s heart missed a beat but the person behind it didn’t wait for confirmation before pushing the handle. In his heart of hearts, he thought he knew who it was going to be. And his suspicion was proved right the moment Officer Quaritch stepped through the door. 

The imposing sight of the armed man set Spider back on the defensive. He tensed up, watching the guy smile pleasantly at the nurse before turning his attention to him. 

“Good afternoon, Spider.”

“Hi,” was all he could muster in response. 

“I was not expecting to see you again, kid. I see you’re feeling better.”

He ground his teeth. The nurse left them to it and Quaritch pulled a chair from the corner, sitting back to front on it by Spider’s bedside. 

“Yeah, well…” Spider muttered. His fingers played with the knitted fabric of the hospital blanket and he avoided looking directly at the officer. Not only was this embarrassing but they guy was probably going to arrest him. Again.  

“How d’you end up here?” Quaritch’s voice was clearly surprised. “What happened after the last time?”

Spider shrugged his shoulders. “They dropped the charges. I got out with a warning.”

Quaritch pursed his lips, surveying Spider. “So how come I’m out on a patrol two months later and find you lying half dead on the sidewalk, huh?”

Spider sighed, realising he didn’t have the energy for a smart answer. 

“Oh, I’m serious. What happened?”

“I’m not hooked.” He tried to think about how he would even explain properly. “You won’t even believe me.”

“Try me.” Quaritch stared at him, and Spider finally found the nerve to meet his eyes. What he found there, he couldn’t quite place. But the man was looking at him as if he was looking inside him. It freaked Spider out. 

He swallowed his nerves and tried to explain. “My friend… we did… Are you going to arrest me?” He suddenly couldn’t bear the waiting.

Quaritch did something unexpected. He smiled. “That depends, kid. On if I think you acted unlawfully, or whether you’ve just been swept up in something you have no control over.”

Spider considered this, thinking hard. He didn’t know if Quaritch would deem his actions arrestable or not, but something deep within him was telling him it was okay to talk. “The first time I ever tried something hard was yesterday. Or I guess the day before… But I didn’t ask for it, I was given it.”

“Okay,” Quaritch prompted, waiting for the next part. 

“I was minding my own business and the guy who gave the stuff to us yesterday comes up and gives me another hit. He said it was free.”

“And you believed that?”

Spider clenched his jaw, realising how stupid the whole thing was now that he was having to verbalise it. “What do you want me to say?”

Quaritch sighed and adjusted himself on the chair. The weapon strapped to his thigh glinted in the hospital lighting. “That it was stupid. That it was reckless. That you know it was and that you won’t do it again.” He watched him as Spider tried to figure out what game the guy was playing. 

“I told you I’m not hooked, I don’t need that shit. I only did it because someone gave it to me.”

“Do you even know what it was? Whether it was safe?” He did wait for an answer. “Of course not. That was real dumb, d’you realise that yet?”

“Yes!” Spider retaliated, his patience thinning. 

They were both quiet for a moment, Spider anxiously wringing his hands together under the blanket, Quaritch thinking hard about what to say next.

“You gave your name to the hospital,” the man said slowly. 

Spider looked up, his heart hammering again. Was he going to get taken back to the station now? Thrown in juvie or be forced into some kind of rehabilitation program? 

“Your name is Miles Socorro.”

Spider narrowed his eyes, turning his head sideways to glare at Quaritch. What of it? he threw towards him. 

He was not expecting to see the cop’s face in anything other than its usual composed air of authority. Straight away he could tell something was off. He’d never seen the man be anything but relaxed and in control. But now, he seemed… stressed? Worried about something. 

“So what?” Spider demanded. 

“Your mom was Paz Socorro?”

Spider was just about able to hide his flinch. “Why is that important? She’s dead.”

“Miles…” the man’s voice had dropped almost to a whisper. The word cracked in his throat, and Spider was starting to get the heeby jeebies. What the hell was going on? Why was he acting like this?

“What?” he pressed. 

Quaritch closed his eyes and seemed to mentally check himself. When he opened them again, he was much more composed. Thank God. “Miles,” he began again, and his voice was also back to relative normal. “I knew your mom. She was a good person.”

That threw Spider entirely off course. Without being aware of forming the question, he asked, “How did you know her?” 

Quaritch dropped his head a fraction. 

Something deep was building up inside Spider, something he couldn’t work out. Something he knew was important but didn’t know if he wanted to hear. 

Quaritch answered the missing link by pulling out his badge. He didn’t answer Spider straight away, instead staring at the ID in his hands. He opened the wallet and traced his name with his thumb. Wordlessly, he handed it over to Spider. 

Spider took it, staring at whatever was causing Quaritch to act so unsettling. His whole body stilled when he read the name next to the photo. 

Miles Quaritch

Lieutenant colonel

St Mark’s Police Department

He stared at the letters. Those five letters, defining a truth Spider wasn’t ready to hear. His breath caught in his throat. 

“Miles, I’m your father.”

Spider was frozen, looking at the ID but not seeing it anymore. A thousand thoughts raced around his brain, yet at the same time he was oddly calm. Miles Quaritch. 

His dad. 

“I didn’t know it was you… I had no idea. If I did…” 

Spider turned his neck back to look at Quaritch, but the rest of his body remained frozen in place on the hospital bed. 

“I didn’t know about your mom, either. I’m so sorry, Miles.”

Quaritch looked like he was stopping himself from talking, trying to give Spider an opportunity to speak. Spider swallowed, eventually finding his voice.

“Where were you?”

Quaritch’s frown lessened as his eyes widened in surprise. He composed himself and then sat forward, fixing Spider with what appeared to be an earnest stare. “I wish I had known. Your mom and I… We were young. I knew she was pregnant but we both agreed it would be better for her to go it alone. I was fresh in the marines and she was a strong, independent lady. She was more than capable and we both knew it. God, I didn’t know she’d died. I promise you if I’d known, things would have been different. I would have been there for you.”

This was too much to take in, to be honest. The ridiculousness of the situation was dawning on him the longer Quaritch tried to explain. All this time, he’d had someone out there who might actually care. For nine years, he’d been alone. And now, of all people, the cop who’d caught him at all his lowest moments was sitting in front of him proclaiming to be his father. 

“Okay, whatever,” he shrugged, quickly pushing the ID back into Quaritch’s hands. His dad’s hands. “I’m sorry you didn’t know. It wasn’t your fault, I guess. But I’m fine. Don’t feel bad.”

He wanted to scream inside. Even though he’d put everything into it, he could still hear that he hadn’t been entirely convincing. Getting caught lying was a thousand times worse than just being honest. 

“Miles-”

“It’s Spider, now. That’s what Mom used to call me.”

“Spider,” Quaritch repeated. “How long have you been homeless?”

“Six months, I guess.” But I haven’t had a home since mom died.

“Okay,” Quaritch said with a large, apprehensive sigh. “Well that changes today. It’s just me at home, and I already have a spare room. It’s time for me to step up, and I intend on proving it to you.”

Spider stared at him in shock. His brain must still be hungover, because he thought Quaritch was offering to take him in. “What?”

“You’re coming home with me.”

“Am I fuck?” he scoffed, genuinely astounded. 

Quaritch examined him with his piercing eyes. The calm authority was back. If Spider wasn’t so panicked, he’d have found it soothing. “I know this is a lot, and you don’t have any reason to trust me. But I believe in morals. You’re my son, which makes you my responsibility.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“Does it look like I’m joking?”

Spider stared. He just stared. Quaritch was deadly serious. “No, hell no.”

“Miles.” 

“You’re crazy.”

Quaritch leaned forwards. “I’m not joking, and I’m not messing around.”

“O-kay…” Spider replied slowly, bringing a hand up to run through his hair as he tried to figure out if he was hearing the man correctly. “Okay.” Then it came to him. Quaritch was only saying this because he felt bad. Relief swept through Spider as he released Quaritch of his burden. “I don’t need your pity, and I don’t need you to feel guilty. I’m actually fine!” He tried his best to convince him. “I know I don’t look great, but I don’t need help. The streets are actually alright you know-”

“I found my son passed out on fentanyl laced coke this morning. You could have died if you choked on your own vomit-”

“I told you I’m not hooked!”

“Oh yeah? And the dealer that supplied you did so out of the kindness of his heart? He’s a pusher! His job is to find new customers. We’ve arrested two of his kind this month already.”

“I don’t need you looking out for me!” Spider growled, in deflection of this revelation. “I’ve never had a dad before and I don’t need one now! So just leave me alone and go back to your life!”

“Pushing me away ain’t gonna work, kid.” Quaritch sat back on the chair and appraised Spider in all his anger. “You forget I’m a cop? You were found in possession of Class A illicit substances last night. We don’t need to go the legal route but we can if that’s what it will take to keep you safe.”

Fucking hell . Quaritch’s eyes told him everything he needed to know. 

He believed Quaritch one hundred percent. 

“So, pretty soon you’re gonna get the withdrawal from last night’s little thrill. I’m gonna give you the choice - you can either do that here or at my place. I can speak to the hospital about keeping you in another night, but understand that there’s no point in running. We’ll pretty easily be able to find you again and when that happens, you’d be off to juvenile rehab. I don’t want that. So what are you gonna choose?”

Spider swallowed. “I’ll stay here.”

Quaritch nodded. “Alright then, I’m gonna take a leave of absence from work and tomorrow you’ll come home with me. We’ll figure everything out, okay?”

Spider looked down. What the hell was happening? Somewhere deep, deep inside he wanted to trust this guy. But he just didn’t know if he could. His mom had seen something good in him, right? Surely Spider should give him a chance? He’d already shown compassion the previous times they’d met. 

But the fact remained that he’d still chosen to walk away when he learned Spider was going to be born. 

All he knew was that he was sick of the streets. 

“Okay.”

***

Quaritch had been right. The withdrawal did kick in that evening. He was guessing it felt like a bad case of the flu, because his muscles all felt weak and his head hurt like a bitch. With nothing else to do, he spent most of it curled up trying to sleep. Quaritch had left not long after the conversation, citing, “things to sort out,” so Spider was mercifully alone. A nurse offered him a hospital gown to change into, which half of him wanted, if only to get out of the smelly clothes he lived in. He reluctantly took her up on the offer, and once he was in something clean and dry, the softness of the bed and the confusion of the day combined to pull Spider down into a deep sleep. He was used to waking up constantly through the night, but knowing he was safe and warm meant he didn’t open his eyes again until morning. 

Outside his room he could see nurses walking hurriedly, doctors strolling from pillar to post and the usual bustling of hospital life. Occasionally snippets of conversation would permeate the door and Spider found himself relaxing into his usual pastime of giving them all backstories. A nurse was in to check him before long, offering him breakfast and asking how he felt. 

“Fine,” he replied, assessing his body. 

“Your dad’s been phoning pretty non stop, you know.”

“He has?”

She nodded. “Seems to think you’ll do a runner.” She smiled conspiratorially at him. “He said to let you know he’ll be here at eight.”

“Great,” he replied, not sure where his sarcasm ended and honesty took over. “What’s the time now?”

She checked the watch clipped to her pocket. “Seven forty eight.”

He huffed a smirk and she joined in with him jovially. “Did you have any belongings when you came in? I had a look and I couldn’t see anything.”

“No, that’s okay.” He wondered what had happened to the blanket he’d slept with on the street. “There wasn’t anything.”

She nodded, warming the end of her stethoscope. “Can I have a listen? If everything checks out, you’ll be discharged when your dad gets here.” 

Spider gestured for her to go ahead, sitting forwards on the bed so she could place the stethoscope on his back. 

“How’s your asthma?”

“I don’t really have it anymore. I haven’t needed an inhaler since I was a kid.”

“But you do have an inhaler, right? Just in case?”

Spider retracted his jaw guiltily. 

“Okay, let me sort that out for you before you go home.”

“Thanks,” he grinned. 

She left him to eat, but Spider couldn’t stop his mind from turning over what would happen when Quaritch arrived. Would the old man still want him? It’s great that he was calling, but he could still have changed his mind. Spider shouldn’t hold him to anything he said yesterday. 

And what if he hadn’t changed his mind? What if he actually ended up going to Quaritch’s house and… moving in? That path was far scarier to imagine. 

He jumped when the handle turned and Quaritch arrived, carrying a duffel and looking him over thoroughly. He looked completely alien without the dark navy epaulettes and shiny badge. Spider almost wouldn’t have recognised him. He shut the door behind him. “Morning.” 

“Hi.”

“You’re looking better. How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“How was withdrawal?”

He rolled his eyes. What was with the twenty questions? “Probably what you’d expect.” He took a breath. “Look, about what you said yesterday, I don’t wanna hold you to anything you said. You’d only just found out about me-”

“What are you saying, Spider?” Quaritch folded his arms, his tone firm and collected, undeniably expressing that whatever Spider had to say, he wasn’t going to listen.

“Just that…” he withered under Quaritch’s look. He already felt like he’d get nowhere. “Nothing.”

“I told you I was taking you home. And that’s exactly what’s happening. This is new for you, I get that. It’s new for me too. But together we’re gonna figure it out.” He dropped the duffel bag gently onto Spider’s bed. “I bought you some things. Change of clothes, toothbrush… I don’t know what they’ve got around here,” he glanced around the hospital room. “When you get home you can take a proper shower and then we’re gonna talk.”

Spider pursed his lips. 

“God,” Quaritch chuckled, looking at Spider in such a strange way that Spider was thrown off entirely. “You look so much like her when you do that.”

A flush spread its way up Spider’s neck. “How long were you with her?”

“Not long. Only a few months. But she’d give me that exact same look whenever I annoyed her.”

A hurt that Spider had repressed for so long reared its ugly head in his chest, momentarily taking his breath away. 

She was gone. She couldn’t come back, much as he missed her. Talking about it wasn’t going to do anything other than remind him about how unfair it all was. 

“Anyway,” he said with an edge that he hoped conveyed his feelings. 

“Anyway,” Quaritch parroted, gesturing to the bag. “Get changed and I’ll talk to reception.”

As he left, Spider wondered if this was what it would always be like, having a cop dad. He shook his head in disbelief, a small smile pulling at the edges of his lips. 

Ten minutes later Spider was standing by his father’s side leaning against the reception desk while Quaritch signed whatever papers they gave him. Guilt stroked his insides as the plastic glint of his dad’s credit card was passed over the table. He wondered how much his little staycation had cost - it never occurred to him until now, because until this moment he’d never had anyone that would take responsibility for that kind of thing. 

“You ready?” 

He nodded, following Quaritch across the foyer and out the revolving doors. It was a beautiful day outside. Bright sunlight bounced off the pavement and a chill highlighted their breath in the cold air. Quaritch led him to a black Audi in the parking lot. “This is us,” he said, gesturing for Spider to get in. This was so weird. Spider couldn’t stop himself from thinking it, over and over again. He didn’t know this man. He could be a total creep who just happened to be extremely good at acting. 

Maybe Quaritch could sense Spider’s hesitation, because he offered another piece of reassurance. “I don’t bite.”

Well. He had put him in cuffs before. This is crazy. 

Swallowing his trepidation, he opened the passenger door while Quaritch threw the bag in the back. 

“Belt,” Quaritch instructed as he started the engine. Spider fumbled for the seatbelt and soon they were out of the lot and driving through town. 

“I was expecting a cop car,” Spider said to break the awkward tension. 

“Hmff,” Quaritch smiled. “Only when I’m on duty. I didn’t want to freak you out too much.”

“Right,” he drawled. “Thanks. I’m officially not freaked out.” 

Quaritch ticked his head to the side as he drove, trying to relieve the tension. Spider watched him from the passenger seat. 

“What are you staring at?”

“Nothing.” He quickly fixed his gaze back ahead of them, watching the world go by. “Where do you live?”

“Down Sixth avenue. You know it?”

That was the more affluent side of St Mark’s. When he was a kid they’d lived in that neighbourhood. Never since. He shook his head. 

“I’ve been here since I left the marines.”

“You served?”

“Damn right.”

“Why d’you stop?”

“I got a shoulder injury. It crushed me to be discharged on medical grounds. I thought my career was over.”

“But you joined the police instead.”

“I did. And I love my job.”

Spider sucked the inside of his cheek. He had opinions on the police, but Quaritch had continually subverted expectations. 

“What about you? Have you got aspirations?”

Spider raised his eyebrows. The only thing he’d ever been good at was surviving. He’d spent hundreds of restless nights wondering what the hell his future had in store for him, feeling powerless over any of it. He wanted to go back to school, but he knew the type of questions he’d face and the CPS procedures would start all over again. “Nah,” he shrugged, staring out the window. 

“I don’t buy that. There’s got to be something you’ve thought about - considered.”

“Yeah I’ve kinda been focusing on surviving, actually,” he bit out.

Immediately he regretted his tone. He didn’t know where the remark had come from - he wasn’t feeling angry and he didn’t think he was harbouring any resentment towards the man. He guessed he was wrong. 

Quaritch glanced at him from the driver’s seat. “Okay, tiger. Easy, there.” 

Spider pressed his lips together to prevent himself from responding. 

Quaritch continued normally. “We’re almost there,” he muttered as they turned left down a residential street with wide grass verges and tall oak trees every fifty feet. The urge to apologise climbed its way into Spider’s mouth. He just couldn’t get the words out. 

Quaritch pulled the Audi up a small driveway that stood in front of a moderately sized detached property. “Home, sweet home.”

Spider unclicked the seatbelt and opened the car door, taking it in. It was a perfectly nice house - about as big as you’d expect for a single guy living by himself. But the thought of living here… Anxiety twisted its way around his guts and made him second guess every decision he’d ever made. 

He followed Quaritch up the short driveway to the front door. Inside was a surprise. Despite the building looking pretty old, the hallway and rooms leading off had been redone in a modern style. The walls were a soft cream with mirrored glass skirting the dark panelled floor. The style was minimalistic, with clear glass stairs leading to the second floor. 

“Wow,” Spider said impressively. 

“Do you like it?” 

“It’s… nice.”

“Come through to the living room…”

There were two boucle couches positioned around an electric fireplace and TV. An archway led through to the kitchen, which was done in a similar modern style. Hints of green speckled the furnishings, reminding Spider of emeralds. 

“Take a seat.”

Spider did as he was told while Quaritch took the bag through to the kitchen. “What are you drinking? Tea, coffee, water, juice…”

The sudden need to make a decision startled him. “Water’s fine,” Spider hastened to answer. 

Framed awards decorated the walls, catching Spider’s attention while Quaritch rattled around the kitchen. “How long were you in the army?”

“Ten years,” Quaritch returned with a glass of water in hand. 

“Where d’you go?”

“Three tours of Nigeria. Then the rest of the world as Head of Security of SecOps.”

Spider wondered if he should know what that meant. It was clear that the man was highly decorated and respected. 

“How d’you get injured?”

Quaritch took a seat on the sofa opposite Spider, inclining his head as if trying to suss the boy out. “Heavy artillery fire in Nicaragua. I’m lucky I didn’t lose my arm.”

“How d’you get out?”

“You’re just full of questions, aren’t you?”

Spider shrugged. “Just curious.”

“I hope you’re gonna afford me the same curiosity?”

Spider took a sip of his water, allowing the man to ask him something. 

“What happened to you after your mom died?”

“I’m surprised you haven’t rung up CPS already.”

“What makes you think I haven’t?”

“Have you?” Spider asked, sitting up. 

“What do you think I was doing all of yesterday? I’ve got your records. I want to know from your perspective.”

Huh. Spider sat back. “Didn’t you say I could shower first?”

Quaritch pushed his mouth into an upside down frown. “I did,” he said slowly. He appraised Spider a moment longer before relenting. “Fine. I’ll show you the way. You can see your room as well.” He led Spider up the see-through staircase, which left Spider feeling grateful he was behind and Quaritch couldn’t see him gripping the bannister for dear life. “My room is just here, the study is this one… And this here is your room.” Quaritch opened the final door in the corridor to reveal a plain and simple room. There was a single bed, empty closet and drawers, full length mirror and just enough space for a small desk and chair next to the window. At the foot of the bed was a neat pile of folded clothes and toiletries. 

“It’s bare at the moment so you can set it up how you like. We’ll go shopping for stuff tomorrow.”

Quaritch was waiting for Spider’s opinion, but Spider didn’t know what to say. Once again it hit him that this was for real. 

The silence was awkward, so Quaritch quickly diverted to showing Spider the bathroom, where after pointing out the spare towel he finally left him alone. The man seemed to have thought of everything. All of the products he’d provided were brand new, the space was pristine and ready for him to move into, and Spider knew that if he asked for anything Quaritch would be willing to help. In a state of shock he undressed - apart from the gold charm around his neck - and turned the faucet on the shower. The flow was strong and hot, steaming up the glistening room quickly. He resisted the urge to sink to the floor and let it run over him indefinitely. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a shower, let alone washed his hair properly. He used the shampoo three times on his dirty locks, which by now had small mats in certain places from lack of care. He looked through the bottles and yes - there was a conditioner which he fingered through the tough spots as thoroughly as he could, until finally he felt he’d done a good enough job. He must have taken a long time because soon Quaritch rapped on the door. “You all good in there?”

“Yep!” Spider called. “I won’t be long.”

He was afraid the guy was gonna barge in anyway, Quaritch’s true intentions finally revealed. But Quaritch did nothing of the sort. “Take your time.”

He didn’t want to, but at last he stepped out and dried himself, picking through the pile of clothing options. Quaritch had provided a couple of pairs of sweatpants, a few plain t-shirts and even an inoffensive hoodie. Amazingly, they were pretty much his size and style. He picked up the clothes and smelled them, feeling cleaner than he had in a long time. Once he’d plaited his hair back and tucked it into the hood so it wouldn’t drip down his back, he tried to tidy up as best he could after himself. He opened the window, gathered his things neatly into a corner and hung the towel up to dry. 

“Feel better?” Quaritch asked as he re-entered the living room.

Spider nodded. “Have you got a hairbrush?” 

“Damn, I knew there’d be something. As you can see that’s not a part of my own routine.” He gestured to his military buzz cut. “Do you wanna get your hair cut?”

“What? No!” Spider quickly replied. “I like it like this.”

Quaritch held up his hands in mock surrender. “It was kinda hard to tell after six months on the streets if this was a deliberate choice.”

“Thanks for the concern,” Spider bristled, throwing himself onto the couch. 

“Hang on,” Quaritch murmured, reaching forwards towards Spider. Spider froze, not sure what he was about to do. The man grabbed the back of the hoodie Spider was wearing and Spider twisted his head, sure Quaritch was about to chop off his beloved braid. “Hey!”

He heard a snap and Quaritch pulled his hand away, plastic tag in his hand. 

“Oh.” Spider watched him throw it away and come and sit opposite Spider on the couch again. 

“So, where are we gonna start, huh?”

Spider bought his legs up, recognising the conversation was about to shift. Well he wasn’t going to let Quaritch get in there first. “Why did you leave my mom?”

Quaritch huffed, smiling. An odd reaction, Spider thought. “I told you in the hospital. But here’s the details. I met your mom when we were in college. We weren’t together for long until she fell pregnant. When she did, we both knew how life changing it was. I liked her, but we weren’t in love. She knew it as well. We considered staying together for the baby, but Paz was adamant she was happy to go it alone. I don’t think she really wanted me around anymore. It wasn’t her fault,” Quaritch expanded at Spider’s sceptical look. “But we weren’t made for each other, and I was about to be sent off on tour. It was painful but we both agreed I’d stay away.”

Spider considered this. “She never spoke about you. I don’t even remember asking her why I didn’t have a dad and everyone else did. It was always just the two of us.”

“Did you know your grandma well?”

“A little. She died when I was five though. But I guess you already knew that.”

Quaritch nodded. 

Spider shook his head angrily. Wasn’t that stuff supposed to be confidential? “How the hell did you get CPS to hand over my file? You’re not on the birth certificate.”

Quaritch leaned back against the couch confidently, stretching along the back of it. “That’s the badge for you.”

Right. This guy was inescapable. Not for the first time, it occurred to Spider how much power he held. 

“Now onto you. Why did you run away from Pine Tree Home?”

Spider narrowed his eyes. After a couple of short term emergency foster placements and a number of different kids’ homes, the system had finally landed him in the worst of them all: Pine Tree Home. After a week, he knew he needed to get out. A week after that, he was proved right, leaving him with the only option left to him - run. 

“Why’s it important?” Spider fired back.

Quaritch widened his eyes emphatically. “I’m asking you why you were homeless at 15 and you don’t think it’s important?” 

Spider shrugged. “Not really.”

“Okay, well now I know it matters even more.”

Spider stared him down. 

“Speak up,” Quaritch said. 

“I don’t know why you don’t just ask the staff. Or is that part not on the file?” he muttered.

“You want me to start an investigation?” Quaritch’s voice raised firmly. Spider could tell he was pissing him off. He didn’t want to, but he sure as hell wasn’t talking about that with this near stranger. “Because I will.”

Spider sighed. “Go ahead,” he relented, shoulders sagging back against the couch. He pulled one of the cushions closer. 

Quaritch’s eyes narrowed, but after a few seconds, his expression relaxed back into one of deep thought. “When was the last time you were in school?”

That changed direction fast. Nevertheless, Spider was grateful for the change of subject. He cast his mind back, trying to work it out. “May, I guess? Spring term, anyway.” He watched Quaritch carefully, unsure how this news would go down. 

“Well that’s changing from next week. Monday morning, you’re enrolled at St Mark’s prep.”

“What?!”

“I rang the principal already. There’s just a few things to sort out but your place is secured.”

Spider stared at him, open mouthed. He’d almost forgotten the very idea of school. And now a prep school? 

“How do you feel about that?”

It must have been obvious from Spider’s dumbfounded expression, for Quaritch was smirking bemusedly. 

“Er… that’s real nice of you,” he said slowly, “but…” he shook his head, trying to figure out how to phrase it. 

“I hope you ain’t gonna try and come up with some bullshit excuse. You’re going.”

Spider was at a loss. His disbelief quickly turned to annoyance at the man’s total surety, stoking something more useful than the helpless feeling he was so used to dealing with now. “How much is that gonna cost you, huh?” he shot back.

Quaritch’s eyebrows raised unexpectedly. “You let me worry about that.”

“This is crazy,” Spider muttered to himself, for what felt like the hundredth time, bringing his hands up to run them through his hair. When all he felt was a damp braid, his anxiety peaked. “I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t know you and I know you think you’re my dad because we have the same name but I can’t know that for sure.” His heart was pounding and his palms had begun to sweat. He was squirming in his seat, in half a mind to get up and leave. “You could be anyone, and I’m definitely not your responsibility so-”

“Miles.” Quaritch’s tone was firm. “Calm down.”

He held his gaze for a moment, but it wasn’t enough. 

What was Spider doing here? Why was he going along with all this… this pity? If that’s what it was? All his fears about the genuinity of the situation were cascading out of him, sending him into a frenzy of fear. His breaths were coming too shallow and too quick. Even if Quaritch was for real, he couldn’t go along with it. He was fine on his own and he’d proved it. He needed to get out, and get out now, before anything bad happened. “I’m sorry, I can’t- I need to go- I just need- Hey!”

Quaritch had crossed the room, crouching in front of Spider and grabbing his wrists firmly in his own. Not enough to hurt. His face was calm and his eyes were kind. “Miles.” 

Spider’s breath hitched. 

“You’re alright. You’re safe.”

Spider tried to tug his wrists free of the man’s grip, but unless he wanted to start kicking and fighting, he wasn’t getting free. “Let me go!”

“Calm down.”

“I am calm!”

“You’re not. You’re spiralling. I ain’t gonna hurt you.”

“Then let go!” Spider pleaded, pushing himself as deep into the couch as he could to back away from Quaritch as quickly as possible. 

“Shh, it’s okay.” Spider closed his eyes, trying to keep his breathing normal while ignoring the terrible swelling of emotion in his throat. He couldn’t do this. It was going to spill… “I’ve got you.”

He couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped his throat, and that was what triggered the tears to fall. He kept his head bowed as low as possible, trying to conceal his vulnerability from Quaritch. It was only the fact that he knew somewhere deep in his bones that Quaritch wouldn’t hurt him that he prevented himself from raising his feet and kicking the man away. Instead he kept his eyes closed in shame when a sob escaped him. His limbs went slack and he finally accepted Quaritch’s proximity. 

Sensing this, Quaritch let go of his wrists and Spider turned away from the man, gripping the couch and trying to repress his sobs into it. “It’s okay,” Quaritch murmured, rubbing his back. 

Spider liked the touch. How long had it been since someone had seen him like this? How long had it been since he’d been held and comforted? The thought made him even more exhausted.

“You’re okay.”

Eventually, Spider’s emotional outflow subsided. Throughout, Quaritch remained stoic next to him - a reassuring presence if only Spider chose to accept it. 

“Here you go,” Quaritch quickly fetched a box of tissues and Spider’s water. 

“Sorry,” Spider let out. 

“Don’t apologise.” It sounded more like a command than a piece of comfort, and Spider looked at him questioningly. “I only expect you to apologise when you’ve done something wrong. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Slowly, Spider readjusted himself so he looked less like a scared prey animal and more like a guest in someone’s house. He was about to apologise again, but he bit his tongue.

“Okay,” Quaritch heaved, retreating from his kneeling position to sit next to Spider. “I get that this is gonna take time. But you need to know that I’m not going anywhere. I’m here and you’re stuck with me. And I'm not letting you go.”

Spider let out a wet laugh. “You know you kind of sound like a serial killer when you say that.”

“Woah,” Quaritch chuckled. “Well I guess you’re right. But I want you to trust me, eventually.”

“I want to,” Spider confided quietly.

Smiling, Quaritch replied. “Well then that’s a good place to start.”

***

“How about we take a trip out. You don’t have a phone do you?”

Spider shook his head. “It was stolen.” 

“Alright then. Let’s fix that.”

Thirty minutes later they found themselves inside the phone store; it was part of a large retail park a few blocks away. It was… nice wandering the isles with Quaritch. Spider played with all the phones they had on display and even listened to the advice Quaritch seemed to have on choosing the correct one. They left with a brand new Samsung and Quaritch suggested they pick up a hairbrush while they were out. They headed to Walmart and ended up getting a whole hairdryer as well. Quaritch needed to take a call as they were in the line, and Spider watched nervously as he conversed. 

“Okay, I understand. No, that’s fine. Thank you. Monday is fine. That ain’t gonna work.” He glanced briefly at Spider. “Yes, that’s fine. Bye.”

“What was that about?” Spider asked.

“Just sorting out the legalities. I need to meet with your case worker on Monday.” 

Spider frowned, thinking of the woman he hadn’t seen in over a year. “Good luck,” he said with disdain. What if CPS didn’t approve of this? What if they made him go back to Pine Tree Home?

He was soon distracted from this news when they stopped at a cafe for something to eat. Spider leaned forward to slurp his frappe and Quaritch caught a glimpse of the gold charm hanging around his neck. 

“This?” Spider clarified, pulling the thin chain out to show Quaritch. “It was my mom’s.”

Quaritch stared at it thoughtfully, a frown line forming on his brow. 

“Do you remember it?” Spider asked, thumbing the tiny golden bull that had dirtied with age.

“Vaguely. She always had it on didn’t she?”

Spider grinned into his coffee. 

***

That evening Quaritch cooked up a lasagna while Spider lay on the sofa, setting up his phone. He downloaded all the apps he used to use but swore out loud when WhatsApp wouldn’t let him sign in without two step verification. 

“Language,” Quaritch cautioned from the kitchen. 

Well, there was no way he was getting his old device back, so he had to say goodbye to all of his data. Thankfully he was able to log in to SnapChat without issue. Seeing only one message from Tommy, he opened it with the sinking feeling of knowing there was no way he was going to be able to explain what had happened to him. He didn’t have the mental energy to even try, so he replied back as if nothing had happened. He vaguely wondered if he’d ever see Tommy again - if he even wanted to. 

“Garlic bread?” 

“Thanks,” Spider replied over the table some time later. The food was delicious - much nicer than Spider would have guessed, coming from a forty something year old bachelor. When they were done, Quaritch cleared the table and began the washing up. Spider hovered awkwardly before wordlessly picking up a tea-towel and moving beside Quaritch to dry. Quaritch acknowledged this with a soft grunt. 

When they were done, Quaritch asked if he wanted to watch anything on TV. Spider was surprised to find that he did. Not that he had anything in mind - he just kind of liked the idea of watching something with Quaritch. It was nice, watching the movie while the world turned dark beyond the curtains. He was so used to being on the other side of the glass, and it was so comfortable on the couch that he could have fallen asleep right then and there. By the end of the film, he was struggling to keep his eyes open. He stretched wide when the credits rolled. 

“Alright, time for bed,” Quaritch declared, watching this with a smile. 

Spider was more than happy to obey, leaving Quaritch for the bathroom. When he emerged, he sat on the edge of his bed, looking through the pile of clothes for pyjamas. He found them and quickly changed, just getting under the covers when Quaritch knocked on the door. 

“Come in.”

Quaritch entered, waiting on the threshold. “Do you need anything?”

Spider shook his head. 

“Alright. Night, tiger.”

Warmth bloomed in Spider’s chest. “Night.” 

***

The next day, Quaritch took Spider to Ikea. Spider had the time of his life, going from room to room and examining all the interior decor on offer. He was worried about how much he was costing Quaritch, but the man had assured him he could get anything he wanted, “within reason.” 

Spider tried to push down how uncomfortable it made him to know that Quaritch wanted to do this for him. It was too good to be true, he knew it was. That being said, he still couldn’t help himself from adding several chains of fairy lights and faux foliage to the cart. When they got back Quaritch offered to help Spider set it all up nicely, but Spider politely declined. He wanted to get on with it independently, for the simple reason that Quaritch said the room would be his. He needed it to be all his own creation. 

“Woah,” Quaritch admired when he was done. “It’s a whole jungle!” Spider rolled his eyes. The lights and new lamp gave the place a warm glow, reminding Spider of the forest from A Midsummer Night’s Dream. “Looking good though! If you’re done, come downstairs so we can talk school.”

A spark of anxiety fluttered to life in Spider’s belly. It was Saturday today, meaning the day after tomorrow he’d apparently be attending some posh private school. With trepidation, he followed his father down the glass stairs - which Spider was still wary of when all he had on his feet were socks.

“Have you looked it up yet?” Quaritch asked as they sat at the kitchen table.

He hadn’t. Truthfully, he’d been trying not to think about it. He hadn’t done much self-reflection on the matter, but what he definitely did know is that even the thought of it caused his anxiety to sky rocket. 

“I’ll show you,” Quaritch said, pulling open a laptop and displaying the school’s website. He tilted the screen towards Spider. “What do you think?”

“It looks… fine,” Spider squirmed. It was definitely big. An aerial view showed numerous lush fields surrounding the main buildings, which were brick and looked like they were built a hundred years ago. 

“Okay, here comes the talk,” Quaritch said with an air of finality, seeing Spider’s hesitation and deciding to knock it on the head. “You got good grades in your past. Even with all the shit you were going through. You’re clearly a smart kid. I don’t care if this makes you nervous. I don’t care if you think I’m being fake and this ain’t gonna last. You’re going to school and you’re gonna get some structure and routine back in your life.”

Spider’s chest rose and fell as he took this in. 

“Tomorrow we’re gonna pick up your uniform and you’re gonna be positive about it.”

Spider stared at the table. “I’m not positive about it.” 

He daren’t look up at Quaritch’s face. He wasn’t trying to be rude but he couldn’t just magic himself happy about it. It would only backfire when everything fell through. Like it always did. 

“Oh, you wanna be smart?”

Spider closed his eyes submissively. “No.”

“Because we can go there.”

Spider shook his head. He didn’t want to fight. 

“Good.” His tone changed to one that sounded more sympathetic. “I know you’re scared. But this is what’s best, and that’s that.” Spider bit his lip while Quaritch stood. “Go and fetch your laundry.”

Relieved that the school talk was over, Spider was all too happy to go and get the new laundry basket that stood in the corner of his room. When he returned, Quaritch was stood by the washing machine. “This here’s a washing machine. Know what it does?”

Spider glanced up at him in confusion, before figuring out that Quaritch was just trying to lighten the mood. “I dunno… cook food?”

“Very good,” Quaritch replied. “Make sure the dial’s pointing here. The detergent is in this cabinet. One capful and then press go.” He looked at Spider, making sure he was paying attention. “You’re gonna take responsibility for your own chores, you got it?”

Spider nodded humbly. 

“You keep that room of yours clean, including making your bed every day. Strip and change it every weekend. After school you’ll have thirty minutes of chores, then thirty minutes of homework. Then it’s your free time. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.” The ‘sir’ came out only half sarcastically. Quaritch appraised him for a moment before deciding that Spider was actually trying to be earnest. 

“Alright then.” He gestured for Spider to put his washing on. 

***

The next day, Spider forced himself to shake his negativity off as much as possible. This was happening, whether he liked it or not. Besides, if it got too much the possibility of ditching and running was still open to him, as unappealing as it seemed. So with gritted teeth he allowed Quaritch to drive him to the uniform shop, where a lady dressed in smart clothes helped take his measurements. The uniform of the school was grey trousers, a white shirt with a navy and yellow striped tie, and a navy blazer. Spider bit his lip as he slipped the final piece on, trying hard not to remember the last time he wore a blazer. He looked at himself in the mirror, trying to work out if he liked it or not. The tie was uncomfortable, and he couldn’t figure out how to do it properly. He slid the curtain open and held the fabric out to Quaritch embarrassingly. 

“Turn around,” was all Quaritch said, taking it in his stride. He took the tie and used the mirror in front of them to do it for Spider. When he was done, he nodded his approval. “We’ll practise at home.”

And so it was that Spider began the long road back to normality. He got in the car Monday morning with Quaritch. He met the principal at 8:30. He went to class. He was as open and vulnerable as he dared to be with the other kids. He hated Math but loved Art. The school lunches were nicer than he was expecting. He made friends that he liked spending time with. 

After a week, he realised that if this was to go south, he was screwed. 

Throughout it all, Quaritch ensured he was always provided for, teaching him how to plan and manage his homework. Paying attention to the school news bulletin and pre-empting Spider’s requests for ingredients for food tech or sports equipment for Phys Ed. After two weeks, Spider tried out for the hockey team and was successful. After three he asked his dad if he could hang out with a friend after school.

“Who is it?” Quaritch asked.

Spider smiled. “Lo’ak.” 

He kept up with his chores and Quaritch began giving him an allowance. He got a laptop for his homework. 

Soon he’d been living with Quaritch for a month. CPS had been around to check that everything was okay and he told them earnestly that it was. For the first time since his mom died nine years ago, he felt… happy. 

“I’m hanging out with Lo’ak’s tomorrow, if that’s okay,” he mentioned over dinner of leftover fish pie. 

Quaritch glanced up. “Of course it is. What are you up to?”

“We’re going to the skate park. He’s gonna teach me how to skate.” Spider was looking forward to it. Kiri even said she’d come and watch them. 

“The skate park, huh?”

Spider met his eyes. He had an inkling his dad would be dubious. 

“Who else is gonna be there?”

“No one! Just Kiri. I promise.”

Quaritch waited a second before replying. “Okay.”

Spider raised his eyebrows, not expecting it to be so easy. “Really?”

“Yes. I trust you.”

His dad had slowly loosened the reins over the time Spider had been with him, but he’d always been worried that Spider would find his way back to old habits, meeting the wrong kind of people or ending up around his old joints on the other side of town. 

“You’ve not given me a reason not to.”

Excitement glowed inside Spider, mingled with something else that caused him to blush faintly. 

“I’m working tomorrow, anyway.”

“I know,” Spider said. He’d already looked at the schedule Quaritch kept pinned up in the hallway. He’d planted it there since he returned to work last week, citing “transparency and preparation.” Spider secretly thought Quaritch believed he’d sneak out or develop a phobia of abandonment unless Quaritch told him well ahead of time when he’d be working. It was probably the reason he hadn’t taken on any night shifts since taking Spider on. 

“You’re gonna get back okay on the bus?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, dad.”

Quaritch took a deep breath. “Alright. I wanna see these tricks you’ve been practising at the weekend though.”

Spider was true to his word. When his dad got back late the next evening, he was curled up on the couch. “How was work?”

“Pretty standard, today,” his dad replied as he hung up his jacket. He unclipped his gun holster and went straight to the safe in his bedroom as Spider called up the stairs.

“Did you taser anyone?”

His dad chuckled as he rejoined Spider, taking a seat next to him as Spider lowered the volume on the reality TV show he was watching. “Why? Do you want me to?” Spider grinned. “How was the skate park?”

“It was good, I got this really cool bruise on my leg because I completely screwed up a heelflip.”

Quaritch shook his head. “I don’t know why I bother.”

“We want to go back on Saturday, is that okay?”

His dad chuckled. “Of course it is, son.” He threw an arm around Spider and pulled him closer, ruffling his hair. Spider let him, content to lay his head on his dad’s chest as the images on the screen played on. 

“I’m so glad I found you,” Quaritch murmured. 

“I’m glad you found me too,” Spider said back.