darker_london | Home again (Flynn, Angus, Pauline)

It wasn't his loved ones he was running from. It wasn't even himself. Flynn had accepted that he was indeed what Frankie had always said he was. A monster. There was no need to run from that if it was true. He was running now for the sake of the people still attached to him. They had enough monsters in their midst. They didn't need another.

Flynn had transferred all the money he had left in his name over to his husband, making sure he only had enough to get him out of London. He didn't take much at all. He had never needed much. He took a few articles of clothing, and his guitar. Everything else he left for Quinn, even, heartbreakingly, his cat Errol. Errol was better off with Quinn anyway.

The trip out of London was expensive. It consisted of a train ride, a ferry ride, another train ride, and then a bus and a taxi. By the time he arrived at his destination, he was tired and not just a little hungry, but he had arrived in one piece and no one had stopped him. Now he was somewhere no one would think to look at him.

He was in the house he had been kicked out of at the age of sixteen.

When his parents welcomed him in, there was no warm scene of reunion. Flynn had just killed their eldest son, though at least his parents were in the state of mind to understand that Frankie had lost his and someone needed to do something about it. Still, it was something of a miracle they let him in at all.

Pauline, Flynn's mother did approach him as he set his suitcase down. She took his light coat from him and then nodded towards the kitchen. "I'll make you some boxty," she suggested, trying to be motherly. It was obvious Flynn was tired and heartsick.

"I think I might just sleep," Flynn said, despite the backflip his stomach performed at the thought of potato pancakes. "It's been a long day."

"Let your mother feed you, boy," Angus O'Reilly commanded his son. "I'll just take your suitcase and guitar up to your room.

Before Flynn could protest, his father was doing just that and Flynn was left to watch in silence. He turned to his mother and shrugged. "Boxty would be nice," he said, giving in. "Thank you for letting me stay."

Pauline said nothing, but she moved to kiss Flynn on the cheek. It was the most motherly thing she had done for him since before he had been kicked out of home. Nearly a decade now. Flynn bit his lip as his throat closed up and Pauline shuffled off to cook him dinner. Flynn had to quickly run to the downstairs bathroom.

He didn't want his mother to see him cry over such a small gesture.