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Simon has just managed to get Wille’s shirt off when his phone chimes loudly. Normally he’d just ignore it and check his notifications after he and Wille were finished what they were doing (aka each other), but he’s waiting to see if he’d been accepted to a prestigious music camp for the summer and is expecting a response.
Fortunately (or unfortunately, Simon isn’t quite sure at the moment) Wilhelm is aware of that fact. He pulls away from Simon, breathing heavily.
“You should...probably check your phone.”
“Yeah.” Simon breathes, his eyes fixed determinedly on the planes of Wilhelm’s chest.
“Simon.”
“Hmm? Oh!” Simon blushes and Wille laughs at him while he scrabbles along the bedside table for his phone.
It’s not an email from the music camp, instead it’s a text from Sara.
Come home.
He rolls his eyes and goes to put the phone down. Sara can be so dramatic when she’s missing him.
The phone vibrates in his hand before he can put it down
Now .
Simon scoffs. Rude and demanding. He’ll tattle to mama when he gets home later. After he has a chance to spend some much deserved quality time with his boyfriend.
Please.
That one makes Simon frown, a feeling of unease settling in his gut. Sara doesn’t plead with anyone. Ever.
Dad’s here.
That’s it. The bombshell that sends Simon panicking immediately and scrabbling around for his discarded jeans.
“Simon?” Wilhelm asks in alarm, quickly sitting up from where he’d been lounging against his pillow. “Is everything ok?”
“I have to go,” Simon gets out, trying to button his pants and put on his shoes at the same time and accomplishing neither. “Now. I have to go, I'm sorry.”
“What’s going on? Are you ok?” Wilhelm’s face twists nervously. “Did...did I do something wrong?”
“What?” Simon pauses, looking startled, “no, of course not. You’re perfect.”
“Then what-?”
“I have to go home- my dad-“ Simon hesitates. Despite them having been officially dating since after the Christmas holidays, Simon still hasn’t told Wilhelm much about his dad, other than the fact that he’s not around much and both he and Sara prefer it that way. “My dad’s there. Sara’s scared- he’s not supposed to be there, he’s not allowed near us.”
In the time it takes Simon to get dressed Sara has managed to send two more texts.
Simon please.
I think he’s drunk.
“Fuck!” Simon curses, “fuck, fuck, fuck ! I’m sorry, I have to go-“
“Wait!” Wilhelm chases after him, his own t-shirt inside out. “I’ll get Malin to drive us.”
“You’re not coming!” Simon snaps, jogging towards the bus stop and trying to text Sara at the same time.
“Simon-“
“No!” Even Simon himself can hear the desperation in his voice. Shame and fear left over from when he was a child, mixed with panic at the thought of what his dad might be doing to Sara or his mother right at this very moment have made him inarticulate and wild. “No, you can’t, you don’t understand, it- it’s not safe. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Wilhelm’s anxious expression shifts into something half shocked and entirely pigheaded.
“Simon, I don’t know anything about your dad but if he’s making you act like this, if he’s dangerous , there’s no way I’m letting you run off to confront him alone.”
“I have to!” Simon is almost in tears now, his eyes wide and unfocused. “He’s there at the house , Wille you don’t understand, he’s drunk, I have to protect them-“
“-I’m going with you.” Wilhelm interjects firmly, gently steering Simon towards one of the sleek black cars used whenever Wilhelm left Hilerska.
“Fine.” Simon’s breathing is erratic, “Fine, but only if you promise to stay in the car no matter what.”
“-Simon.”
“Promise me!” He says fiercely. His tone softens, “please. Promise me. I need you to be safe.”
“I-I promise.”
“No matter what, ok? You have to stay here.”
“Fine.”
“Ok,” Simon nods as the car peels away from the school, “ok.”
“Malin’s here anyway.” Wilhelm points out, offering a strained smile to the blonde woman who offered a distracted nod in acknowledgement. She’d been unusually tense ever since Simon had mentioned his father. Over the past few months Malin and Simon’s mother had become quite close, and obviously Malin knew some details about the man that Simon had yet to share with Wilhelm. He’d never seen her so tense before. “She’ll look after us.”
“I will.” Malin’s tone is steely, her eyes fierce.
Simon bites his lip. “You don’t know-“
He’s interrupted a second later when his phone rings. He swipes it open desperately.
“Sara?”
“Simon!” Sara’s usually calm voice is shrill and hysterical over the phone, and loud enough that both Wilhelm and Malin can hear her despite the fact that the phone isn’t on speaker. “Are you coming home?”
“Yeah. Yeah I’m on my way. Are you ok? Where’s mama?”
“I’m fine,” Sara says, sounding anything but fine, “mama made me lock myself in my room, but oh Simon it seems bad. Mama won’t let him into the house and threatened to call the police but he’s drunk enough and furious enough that he doesn’t seem to care. He’s banging on the door and yelling- mama said she’s afraid he’ll manage to break the door down, he's that mad.”
“Jesus Christ Sara! Did you call the police?”
“I don’t want to, not unless we really have to. If he gets arrested it’ll violate his parole. I don’t want him near us but I also don’t want him to go back to jail , not again.”
“Coming within a hundred feet of us is a violation of his fucking parole , drinking is a violation of his fucking parole, nevermind whatever other shit he might be on-“
“-he'd be furious at us!” Sara wails, “What do you think he’ll do if we call the cops on him?”
“What do you think he’ll do if we don’t?” Simon’s voice has risen to a shout, fear dripping into every word. His tone softens, becoming soft and pleading, “don’t you- don’t you remember what he did to mama last time? What he did to us ?”
“Of course I do.” Sara’s voice is cold. “Of course I do, how could I ever fucking forget.”
Simon sighs.
“I’m calling the fucking police Sara. It’s not fair for mama to have to be terrified of him and it’s not up to us to cover his mistakes. We don’t owe him anything.”
“Call them then.” Sara acquiesces, “just get here soon, please I’m scared.”
“I’m like two minutes away ok? Promise.”
“Ok.” The line goes dead.
Simon carefully moves his phone away from his ear, his whole body visibly shaking, and dials 9-1-1.
Wilhelm's mind is reeling. He’d figured out from Simon’s reluctance to talk about his dad and the way Sara tensed up whenever he was mentioned that the Vasquez children didn’t have a great relationship with their father. Hell, even the fact that Simon used his mother’s maiden name as his last name made it obvious that he and his dad weren’t exactly close . Still, Wilhelm had just thought Simon’s dad was absent, or a dick. In fact, until he saw him at Hilerska’s parents day he hadn’t been completely sure that Simon’s dad wasn’t dead. However this , this whole situation was way worse than he could have imagined. Jail ? Parole violations? What exactly had happened the last time Simon’s dad had come around that made both Simon and Sara so petrified?
Suddenly a lot of Simon’s quirks made a lot more sense. Like the way he tensed whenever he got started and exhaled a strained breath through clenched teeth, or the way he never drank, not even at parties, never touched a drop.
As they pull up in front of his house Simon pulls Wilhelm out of his thoughts by pressing a quick kiss to his lips.
“Remember,” he whispers urgently, “stay in the car, no matter what. You promised.”
Then Simon throws himself out of the car, launching himself across the short lawn towards where a man is screaming and banging on the Vasquez’s door.
“Malin!” Wilhelm sounds strangled, as the man, Simon's father , rounds on Simon with a roar, landing a wild punch against his face. Malin nods and races out of the car at the same moment Linda throws open the door and puts herself between the man and Simon, who had stumbled back at the hit, clutching his face.
Linda is yelling in spanish and Simon is screaming too, trying to pull her away from the man, who manages to smack Linda twice before Malin has made it halfway across the yard.
It takes every bit of Wilhelm’s willpower not to bolt out of the car and make sure Simon is ok, to get him somewhere safe, but the memory of the promise he made to Simon keeps him glued unhappily to his seat.
The man grabs a handful of Linda’s hair and the resulting sound of Linda’s pained scream and Simon’s furious roar are enough to send Wilhelm scrabbling for the door handle. Luckily though, Malin grabs the man and tackles him before Wilhelm gets the chance to unlock the door.
“Simon!” He calls, as sirens wail in the distance and Malin gets cuffs onto the man who reeks of whiskey and is spewing a litany of profanity at Linda from where he’s been pressed face down on the ground.
Simon looks over at him from where Linda had been checking his face, lightly brushing her thumb over the bruise that had already begun to bloom over his right cheekbone.
“Wille!” His eyes are still fearful, still urgent, still pained, “Go wait in the car. Please! It’s not safe.”
“Simon,” Wilhelm says, pausing where he is and speaking in a gently soothing tone, “it’s alright. I’m fine. You are too, and so are your mom and Sara. Everything’s ok. We’re all safe.”
The tightness is Simon’s shoulders doesn’t lesson, as he presses close to his mother’s side, glancing down at his father with a mixture of fear and disgust.
“He- he-“
“Do you really think he’ll get away from Malin? Malin , who’s trained to deal with people like him, who has based her entire career around it? You’re ok Simon, I promise. Everything is ok.”
Wilhelm can see the moment Simon comes back to himself, when his panic starts to fade. He deflates, his whole body relaxing as he shakes with silent sobs.
“Hey,” Wilhelm says softly, his gaze still focused directly on Simon’s warm brown eyes, “can I hug you?”
He doesn’t want to push Simon. Wilhelm himself knows what it’s like not to want anyone to touch you sometimes, especially after something traumatic; but he also knows that Simon is often reassured from any sort of gentle physical contact.
Simon nods and Wilhelm hurries the rest of the way across the yard, carefully pulling Simon into his arms. Linda then pulls both of them into a hug, pressing a kiss to Simon’s curls and another to Wilhelm’s cheek.
“You shouldn’t be here Wille,” Linda chides gently. She turns to Simon, “you either mi amor. Did Sara call you?”
Simon nods.
“What have I told you?” She pulls back, making sure to look Simon straight in the face, “You and Sara both know better by now. Whenever he’s like this and you aren’t here, you stay away. I’ll handle it.”
“Mama-“
“ -no Simon. I can take care of myself but I can’t protect you if you don’t listen to me.”
“Sara was scared.”
“Scared yes, but she was also safe . I made sure of it. But you Simon,” her thumb brushes over his bruise and he winces, “you’re hurt because of me. You weren’t supposed to be home until tomorrow.”
“Dad hurt me, you didn’t. It’s not your fault.”
“Simon,” Linda’s voice shakes. Micke’s hits have turned her face into a patchwork of bruises. Wilhelm’s face hurts just looking at it. “I’m the one that stayed with him for far too long. He got out of jail early because I couldn’t hire a good enough lawyer. He’s mad at me but he takes it out on all of us. Everything he does, every time he hurts you or Sara it is my fault.”
“Mama, you didn’t make him do those things. It’s not your fault he’s-he’s-“
Simon huffs and switches into spanish. His and Linda’s continued conversation is short and emotional, before it gets cut off by police arriving on scene.
Malin greets them and explains the situation, handing over Simon’s handcuffed father without protest. The police first ask Linda some questions, then Simon and Wilhelm a few, but after Malin’s cool urging and fierce glare they decide they have all the information they need for the time being and leave.
Linda’s shoulders sag as soon the cop rounds the corner out of sight.
“Come on,” she says, shepherding them all into the house, “I’ll make us something to eat. I think we all need to calm down for a bit.”
Simon knocks gently on Sara’s bedroom door as soon as they get inside and coaxes her out of her room. She immediately takes his face in both hands, peering at his bruise before wrapping him in a tight hug. Wilhelm quickly follows Malin and Linda to the kitchen, feeling like he’s intruding on a private moment between Simon and his sister.
Linda ushers both Wilhelm and Malin into the kitchen, urging them to sit and pressing glasses of iced tea into each of their hands, chatting about everything and anything except what just happened. When Simon and Sara appear a minute later though, she immediately reaches into the freezer and hands Simon an ice pack, pressing a kiss to his temple. At Malin’s gentle urging Linda begrudgingly takes one for herself, holding a bag of frozen peas to her blackened eye as she bustles around the kitchen.
Despite Linda’s attempts to remain cheerful and act as if nothing has happened the environment around the table is unusually subdued. Linda’s forced smiles are a direct contradiction to her usual warm grin. Malin keeps casting anxious glances her way, and answers three calls over the course of the afternoon- one from the palace and two from the police department asking follow up questions. Simon clutches Wilhelm’s hand tightly under the table, and Sara is unnervingly quiet, watching everything around her with a sharp gaze and jumping at any unexpected noise.
“So,” Wilhelm starts later, when they’re curled up together on Simon’s bed, Wille running his hands through Simon’s curls, “today was…”
“Today was a fucking nightmare.” Simon finishes for him, “Like it always is whenever my dad shows up.”
“Do you want to talk about it or be distracted from it?” Wilhelm asks. It’s something they’ve started asking each other in difficult situations, that helps them communicate without either of them feeling uncomfortable. The question signals to Simon that Wilhelm is there for him, that he’s in the right headspace to listen to him vent, while simultaneously taking the pressure off and letting Simon decide what- if anything- he feels comfortable sharing.
Simon sighs and presses a kiss to Wille’s chest. “Talk about it. But it’s a long shitty story so I get it if you don’t have the headspace to deal with it right now.”
“I’m here.” Wilhelm promises, “I’m ready to listen, to whatever you feel comfortable sharing with me.”
Simon sighs. “Well, that delightful charmer who punched me and smacked my mom around this afternoon is indeed my father. Micke.”
Wilhelm hums, encouraging him to continue.
“My dad wasn’t around much when I was little, even when he and my mom were still together. He’s a raging alcoholic with a burgeoning drug problem. The guy’s a piece of shit, deals drugs to kids and sells them alcohol too. He-he’s how I got the booze for your initiation party at Hilerska. I-I’m the one who went looking for him, I’m the one who sought him out even though we’ve been no contact with him for the past eight years- ever since my mom finally worked up the courage to leave him. It’s my fault he showed up at Lucia, my fault he was here today.”
He lets out a sob and buries his face deeper into Wille’s chest. Wilhelm shushes him quietly, hugging him closer to his chest.
“Simon, it’s not your fault. Your dad being an abusive piece of shit is his problem, not yours.”
“He hurt mama.” Simon whimpers, “I promised myself after they split that I’d never let that happen again. He used to hit her...all the time. One of my first memories is of my dad smacking her against the kitchen cupboards at my old house. He- when I was little he’d yell at me and Sara but mama always took the brunt of his rage and all of his beatings. Sometimes he'd land the odd hit on me or Sara before she could get in front of him, but it was never as bad as what he’d do to her. He put her in the hospital a few times. It was...it was really bad for a while, Wille.”
He looks up then, his eyes glittering with unshed tears as the horrible memories crash over him. “It was bad, but what made it worse was that he never yelled or hurt any of us when he was sober. Sober Micke was safe Micke, kind Micke, fun Micke. It was hard for me when I was little to reconcile who my dad was when he was himself with who he became whenever he drank. I was so confused for a while, and I think it’s part of the reason my mom stayed with him for so long. My dad doted on her whenever he was sober, treated her like a queen. I think it was hard for her, never knowing which version of her husband she'd come home too, whether she’d be greeted by a kiss on the cheek and a bouquet of flowers, or a slap across the face. I think she had trouble believing that the same man who danced with her in the living room was the same one who broke her wrist when he was drunk and angry.”
“The last straw came when I was probably around eight years old.” Simon continues, his voice rough, “He got a bad fix and it was like he completely lost his mind. To this day I have no fucking clue what he took, only that it made him paranoid and half deranged rather than just furious like he usually was. That night he beat mama worse than he usually did and turned his fury on us too. He threw me against the wall- I broke my arm- but he also threw Sara into the coffee table. She blacked out. There was so much blood… “
He shakes himself a bit. “I don’t remember much else from that night, only the sound of my mother’s screaming and the fact that I was sure Sara was dead. Apparently my mama called the police and charges were filed against my dad after officers showed up at our house, but I don’t remember seeing any cops around our place. Sara was rushed to the emergency room, and she was ok apart from a concussion. Even still, I know I’ll never forget how deathly pale she was. There was so much blood….she needed fourteen stitches in her forehead! Anyway, the three of us moved as soon as Sara was out of the hospital, and my dad was sentenced to fours years in prison and five years of parole, which is such utter fucking bullshit after what he put us through. Domestic abusers can get three times that, even for ‘first time’ offenders like my dad.”
Simon huffs angrily , rubbing his eyes before he continues.
“Technically, coming within a hundred feet of any of us is a violation of his parole but he does it every so often, scaring the shit out of all of us every time. Me get back into contact with him has only made him more desperate to see us, and mom more determined to keep him away. I never should have talked to him, this is all my fault.”
He presses his thumb sharply to his bruised cheekbone. “As far as I’m concerned, I deserve this. Mama wouldn’t be hurt if it weren’t for me.”
“Simon,” Wilhelm says sternly, gently encircling the boy’s wrists and pulling his hand away from his face, “listen to me. What happened today was...terrifying, awful, and everything that you and your family have gone through is absolutely horrific, but it is not your fault , ok? Your father’s issues are his own fault. Nothing you did ever made him hit you, it was a decision he made, and he made it over and over again when he hurt you and Sara and your mother. It’s not your fault ok? The only person to blame for Micke’s behaviour is Micke himself.”
For a minute Simon just looks at him, his eyes wide. Then the moment pauses and he bursts into tears.
“I hate him,” he sobs into Wilhelm’s neck, “I hate him for hurting me, and I hate that my mom and Sara are still so petrified of him, and I hate that he won’t just leave us alone, but more than anything I hate that I miss him- or at least that I miss the part of him that knew how to act like a dad.”
“It’s ok to miss him like that.” Wilhelm assures him, “It makes sense. He was like two different people to you. It’s ok to miss the part of him that loves you even as you hate the person he became.”
“Thank you.” Simon mumbles. “Look, I know we’ve still got a lot to talk about but I don’t really wanna think about him anymore right now. Is that ok?”
“Of course,” Wilhelm murmurs, pulling back a bit and pressing a kiss to Simon’s bruise,”are you ok?”
“I’m fine.”
“Earlier-“ Wilhelm starts then hesitates. “Earlier, when I saw your dad h-hit you,” he grits out, “I swear to god Simon I’ve never been so terrified in my life. Hearing you scream...it was the worst thing in the world, knowing you were hurt, knowing you were scared and not being able to do anything about it. I just...wanted you to know that.”
“Hey,” Simon’s voice is unbearably soft as he reaches up to cup Wille’s cheek. “I’m ok, I promise. I’ve had worse, it-it could have been worse.”
“I just, I want you to be safe, I want you to feel safe. Is there anything I can do?”
“Just...be here please.” Simon swallows, “stay with me tonight.”
“Of course,” Wilhelm murmurs, pressing a kiss to Simon’s forehead, “go to sleep my love. I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”
Simon drifts to sleep, but Wilhelm stays awake for hours, his mind swirling with thoughts of Simon’s past, of his and Linda and Sara’s strength, and about how Wilhelm will never let anyone- especially not Simon’s shithead father- ever hurt Simon again.
He falls asleep thinking about it.