The Morning AfterMature

It was early morning on the eleventh day. Quincey was lying in bed, wondering why Delilah was lying so stiffly next to him and not uttering a single word. She just barged into his room with Rose late last night and despite him pleading for an answer on "What happened?" he only received an accusing silence. 

Now orange rays of the sun were trailing up the room and Quincey couldn't take the tension any longer than he had too, he saw Delilah rise up next to him.

"Delilah, what the hell happened last night?" he asked.

She didn't answer, instead she fixated him with one of her cold glares to make her feelings known without words, Quincey seemed to pick up on the message but he still spoke "Why are you pissed at me now, what did I do!?" he begged for an answer, Delilah's decided to finally give him one.

"They found out about the game" she muttered.

"Who?" Quincey questioned 

"The Queen" she replied sarcastically 

"You mean Ol and Steph" he said, when she didn't reply he ventured forward "Well, so what if they found out? No one got chucked out because of it, that's daft even by Stephanie's standards!" he exclaimed, rather exasperated.

"No, they didn't chuck anyone out they accused us of manipulating Stan..." 

"His fourteen! Not bloody four! When are they going to realise that he has a mind of his own!" Quincey shouted in anger.

Delilah ploughed on through Quincey's outburst "...and then they asked for the ringleader, they wanted to know who started the game" 

Quincey gulped "Well, did you tell them" he said his head hung low, dreading the response. "No, Camden took the fall for you and the rest of us covered the lie. Oliver got so mad..." she shook her head "Camden was acting up to him, taunting him, telling him he drew Stan to the game... and Christ... Oliver just snapped and knocked one of Camden's teeth out with a single blow" 

Quincey's jaw hit the floor.

"He fucking didn't" he swore

"He did, all to cover you" Delilah explained, well at least he knew why Delilah was pissed at him now. "Why the hell did he cover shitty me? Fuck, Camden's stupid" he muttered as he buried his head in his hands. "His not stupid Quincey" Delilah began as Quincey looked up "He can see what I can see, you're a great guy and his your friend. Friends have each other's back's..." she trailed off and stood up straight as she slipped into some baggy jeans.

"So, for God's sake get up today and get back to cheering everyone up" she commanded curtly. Quincey blinked a few times before he finally saw sense. "Can you forgive me for being a dick?" he asked timidly hiding behind a very shy smile.

"I already have, I'm just waiting for you to realise it" Delilah said.

Quincey beamed as he stood tall. Back to business.


Camden sat there in his room, trying hard not to flinch as Victoria inspected his swelling wound on his face. 

"Ow..." he gritted his teeth as she prodded at it. It was stinging and itching horribly. He clenched his eyes shut (again wishing he could be stronger) before uttering "Well how bad is it?" 

Victoria backed away from him he opened his eyes "Well you lost a baby tooth so that will grow back. Although it looks like Oliver clipped you with his ring, so that might a leave a small scar" she muttered sadly. Camden wasn't too fussed about the possibility of a tiny scar. More than anything he felt proud that once again he had made a decision he knew was right by protecting Bradley. 

"You know I couldn't let him do it" Camden said at last to Victoria.

"What are you babbling on about now?" Victoria asked.

"Bradley, I saw him go forward to take the blame for starting the game. I couldn't let him do that" He uttered

"Aw, I thought you had grown on me" 

Camden looked up to see Quincey and Delilah creeping into the room through the already open door, seeing the bleeding gash across Camden's face Quincey recoiled slightly before he propelled himself forward "Oliver did this to you?" he questioned in anger.

Camden nodded.

"Well I'll do it him! See how he likes it!" Quincey shouted getting riled up.Victoria rolled her eyes at the hot blooded young man "Calm down, more violence won't solve anything" she snapped. "Then what the hell will!? Maybe I should land some blows on Antonio that Spanish sleazeball sold us out! he roared.

"Pointing the finger is going to get us nowhere, Antonio is just a teenager, and Oliver's a good man under a lot of pressure right now" Victoria told him without even glancing in his direction Quincey strode forward "Whose side are you on!?" he demanded of the elderly widow.

"No one's, if we start a civil war in this flat we are doomed. We need to remember it is us against the dead and not each other" these wise words calmed the young man down slightly as he crouched beside Camden. "Even if you say that was for the kid, you didn't have to cover for shitty me" he told him.

"I just wanted to piss off Oliver anyway" Camden said, the two looked at each other, grins spreading across their faces before they both burst out into hearty laughter, clasping each other on the back.

"Boys" Victoria said to Delilah smiling. "I guess his back" Delilah thought, this was the Quincey she liked. The one who could laugh in the face of so much destruction.

After the two men calmed down, Delilah presented Camden with an ice pack "Rose said she'd found it under her bed, she wants you to have it" she said as Camden pressed the cooling pack to his cheek, a gasp of relief escaped his lips at the cooling sensation that spread across his face.

"Better?" she asked

"Yes" Camden muttered in bliss the itching and burning of gash on his cheek had throbbed out of existence as long as this pack stayed pressed up against his wound. 

"Well at least you got the wound for a good cause Quincey and Bradley owe you" Delilah said.

If Camden realised how wrong she was. He would have cried.


Bradley couldn't move. He was "sick" again as Ian went off to breakfast. Trapped in his own bed, unable to move his legs as the dried blood caked on them. It hurt to even breathe as the number of wounds that had opened on his body stung and ached and itched leaving the boy in agony.

Yet he had to stay still. Every fibre of his being lay still moving would only aggravate the wounds to throb worse than they already were. Father's beating last night had been the worst he'd ever gotten, Yet His father did something "new" to him. Something he hadn't done before. But in his rage his father had lost the plot completely.

Bradley shivered as a single tear rolled down his unmarked face (unlike the rest of his body)  he didn't like this new type of beating.

It hurt. 

The End

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