Chapter Text
Warning, physical abuse, f slur and homophobia through this charapter.
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Mister Holden. God was he a horrible father. Mr. Holden works at a fancy hotel, so he wasn't quite home unless he was drunk. Mrs. Holden was the sweetest woman you could meet, on the West side I mean. Mrs. Curtis was the sweetest on the East. Mrs Holden worked as a secretary, she was home most of the time.
If you put Mr. And Mrs. Holden together, they couldn't get along. They had an arranged marriage so they couldn't deny anything. But back to Mr. Holden's character. He couldn't take anything as a joke. Paul messing around with his sister Olive, straight to his room. Paul out too late, straight to his room. Mr. Holden didn't understand "20 years old" and "15 years old". Paul was an adult, so was Olive. Shes 18.
Mrs. Holden on the other hand doesn't think anything of it, Paul and Olive I mean. If Paul messes with Olive she laughs softly. She loved her kids but hated her husband. Oh what Paul would do to protect his Mom and Sister. His dad can rot in hell.
Olive was the obvious favourite of his fathers. She was beautiful, straight A's, good personality. straight.
Paul could be counted as the favourite of his mother's but you couldn't tell.
Paul looked like his father. He hated it. He hates the face his father has, the eyes. The nose. the mouth. His whole face he hated. Nobody can change his mind about that... Maybe one person. Someone special.
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Present. Tulsa, Oklahoma 1965.
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Paul had came back home from the Curtis Household. "Call sometime." Paul muttered, Call Darrel. Maybe he could when his dad wasn't home. Maybe just maybe he could be accepted for who he is. His dad not calling him a fag, not beating him, yelling, screaming. Maybe. But that was a fantasy that will never come true.
He walked through the door, sighing softly as he noticed his father was home. Paul gently shut the door and placed his keys in his pocket. "Where the hell have you been fag." His father raised his voice, taking a swig of beer from his bottle.
"I was talking with a friend."
"Boyfriend?" Mr. Holden said slowly.
"..Just a friend." Paul whispered.
"You sure it's not a boyfriend Paul?" Mr. Holden started to smile, laugh. "My little fag son has a boyfriend! How disgusting." He yelled.
Paul sighed. "He isn't my boyfriend. Just a friend from highschool. I was visiting him because I hadn't seen him in a while.."
"Yeah right. Your moms not home. Your sister isn't home. It's just us you..little gay boy.."
Mr. Holden laughed again, goodness he was really drunk. Paul started laughing nervously. "I'm not 15 anymore dad. I can do what I want. You won't let me get a college dorm so I have to stay here.."
Mr. Holdens face hardened. He scoffed. "So? I'm your father..I jus..- do what I want.." He slurred his words. Mr. Holden started walking closer to Paul.
"Why are you so upset with me. What the hell did I even do!"
"You're a fag that's why..I should've known from that..Dirty greater you hung out with. What was his name..uhhm. Curtis or something.."
Pauls hands turned into fists. Clenching his fingers hard.
"hes not a dirty greaser."
"What is he then huh.." Mr. Holden slowly laughed again.
"Hes..hes the best man a guy can ask for."
Mr. Holden looked disgusted.. He always wondered why Paul was a homosexual. He hated it. He should be with a girl, get married, have kids. But no. He just had to be gay. Mr. Holden got madder. Paul and his father started yelling at eachother.
"You dirty fag! You don't deserve to be my son!"
"Yeah?! I was before you found out that I was a homosexual! Why can't you just accept me for that!
" Because you're dirty and rotten! Spoiled! Your sister better not be like you, Paul. Or I'll crush you to pieces."
"Don't talk bad about Olive! I care more about her than you do!"
"oh shut it! That dirty greaser Curtis and his family are much more tolerable than you! You need to stop visiting that boy, hes corrupting you!"
a few more minutes of yelling, Paul had enough. He slapped his dad across the face.
"Dont talk about Darrel like that!"
Paul had yelled. His father stood stunned. His lips curled into a smile, more laughter coming out of his throat. Mr. Holden looked at him. He slapped him back, before Paul could react he kicked him right in his gut.
"You dirty rotten faggot.."
He hissed. He smashed the bottle on top of Paul's head, hard, knocking him unconscious. Mr. Holden stood there, staring at his son. A disappointment. He thought. His son was worth nothing. Mr. Holden pushed Pauls unconscious body away from the door and walked out, not saying anything.
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Darrel was at his home with his two brothers. They ran around tackling the gang. Darry was sitting by the phone, waiting for Paul's call. He never told anyone about it though.
A few hours pass and Darry starts to get worried. Paul made it clear he was gonna call. He waited and waited by that telephone, even fell asleep for a moment while waiting. Darry decided he would check on him. He stood up, grabbing his shoes and keys.
"Gonna go out for a minute. Be back soon."
Darry hollered so everyone can hear him. Everyone says their goodbyes and Darrel walks out and heads to his truck.
On the way to the west side of town, Darry noticed the Soc side seemed empty. He wasn't sure why. Darrel made it to Paul's house. Paul's yellow mustang in the driveway. He was home, but why hasn't he called? Thats what Darry thought. He parked his truck and got out, he walked to the door and knocked on it gently.
"Paul, it's me."
He spoke roughly. Paul didn't answer.
"Paul?"
Still no answer.
"Paul I'm coming in."
He said before he opened the door. He stopped on his tracks seeing Paul's unconscious body. All bloodied, bruised. He looked bad..
"Paul? Sweetheart?"
Darry whispered. He slowly made his way to Paul's body. Slightly shaking him, he looked at his face. His face all bruised..Blood everywhere. He checked his pulse, still breathing. Still alive. Thank god. Darry realized Paul's leg didn't look normal. His leg looked messed up.. It wasnt like that before. His father probably did it. He knew he did.
"Goddamnit what the hell did you do."
he whispered angrily. He stood up and gently carried Paul's body to his truck. "I'm takin' you to the hospital sweetheart. Youll be fine."
No, he won't be fine.