Life Was Known - 6. Chapter Six: Disappointed

Chapter Six: Disappointed

Liam got out of the car and shut the door, standing beside it as Carlos walked up to his house to unlock it.

They were just ten minutes from the bar, but Carlos skipped it, because he felt that Ashe was a bad influence. Not as much as Sam, but he wasn't fond of Ashe's drinking, which reflected on Liam. That was why Liam was upset about them skipping it; he wanted a drink. Could use it.

"Come on," Carlos called out and opened the front door. He looked back at Liam and beckoned, and Liam sighed and walked over. The two stepped into the house and Carlos flicked the lights on.

His house looked like the ones he sold. Nice, white, barely lived in despite his three years there. He looked back at Liam. "Do you want a drink?" he asked. Liam gave a single shrug.

"Do you have anything strong?"

"Probably not what Ashe has." Carlos walked off to the kitchen, leaving Liam to look at the living room. It was simple. Normal. Clean. Because Carlos was out socializing a lot, it left the house pretty sad and lonely. The warm lighting made it feel a little more lively, though.

The walls held small things like family photos, or random "Faith Family Friends" and "Home Sweet Home" pictures. Just things that were given to him that he put up for some life in the house. The family pictures were of his college graduation and siblings, who lived in Colorado. It didn't really matter what was hanging up, because it was all more than Liam had in his own home. His house's walls were empty because he didn't have a family anymore, and his office held papers and things of death for his writing.

Carlos came back into the living room with some glasses of whiskey and handed one to Liam, who hadn't come over in a few months. Scratch that: hadn't been inside, for a few months. He'd come and ask for favors, but that was all. He just didn't like coming to the town, because of how different he was than the people who lived there. Trailer trash. To be honest, he and Carlos had only met through a Christmas party that Ashe brought Liam to once in highschool. They only hit it off because of some chatting and mutual interests, like you do in school. James was Ashe's brother, Liam was Ashe's friend, Sam was Ashe's one time fling, and Carlos was Liam's friend from Ashe's party. It all came back to Ashe, in the end.

Liam took a glass and drank the whiskey, which tasted better than what Ashe had in his collection, but he knew that it wasn't as strong. He didn't have to look at Carlos to know that he was watching him expectantly.

"So," Carlos said, "Tell me what's going on."

Liam scoffed and shook his head. He shrugged. "...Just working on the Dewsome case."

"Okay, Liam, I don't say this because I'm your friend; supposed to support you and all, but- maybe you aren't cut out for writing true crime," Carlos said and brought his cup to his lips. Liam gave him a look.

"Wow. Thanks."

Carlos sighed. "You know that's not what I mean. I just think that you need a break. For your mental health."

"I'm fine. I've already written-"

"This is your seventh, I know. You write pretty good, but it might be time for a vacation."

Liam walked by Carlos to sit on his Hispanic friend's couch. Carlos was full of shit. There was no way he had actually read Liam's books. He was probably right about the vacation part, though. He watched his annoying friend walk over and sit beside him. Then take in a breath.

"What were you and Ashe doing at that house?" Carlos asked. Liam looked away. He'd already decided that he didn't want to tell Carlos or Sam about Noah. Telling Ashe and James was enough, so he didn't need two more people in on the mystery.

"...I looked up Noah's case file," Liam said slowly, lying, "Because it was the anniversary. And it just… didn't seem right. The way he was killed- the killer must have done it before."

"Liam..." Carlos sighed and leaned forward on his knees, peering around at his friend, his eyes a dark brown. Liam looked at his friend before averting his gaze again.

"I found three other kids, killed the same exact way. Two before Noah, and one after. They're all seven years apart, all drowned, all kids that no one would look for-"

Carlos put a hand on Liam's knee, which felt a little weird, because neither Liam nor any of his other friends did much physical contact. Aside from Liam sleeping with Sam, but that was different. He still tried not to have much contact with her then, too. "I think you need to stop listening to Ashe and actually get some help," he said. Liam scoffed a little too heartily and looked at his friend, eyebrows knit together.

"Not everything I do revolves around Ashe, Carlos. Did you even hear me? Four kids have been killed all in the same way, seven years apart, in close proximity of each other."

"I heard you, Liam. But what does this have to do with your well being? Why don't you get that living out in the woods, all alone in a cheap trailer, and drinking alcohol for breakfast isn't good for you? Why can't you take care of yourself?"

"I do. Can you listen to me?"

Carlos huffed and closed his eyes. He pulled his hand from Liam's leg to put his head in it, irritated. He was Hispanic, but he didn't have an accent or speak the language; it had stopped with his mother. His black hair was combed neatly back, to further accentuate the annoyance in his face. He opened his dark eyes again to look at Liam. "I'm listening."

Liam shook his head and decided to finish his drink before speaking again. "Those kids have all died, and the last one was found in 1999- seven years after Noah. Now it's 2006, and there's a kid missing again- same as the others; a forgettable kid disappearing after school. We," Liam sighed, "Me and Ashe went to talk to the kid's dad, about his disappearance, but he'd already killed himself. I lied, yeah, but I just wanted to talk to him about his son, because I think there's a serial killer out there, and I think that he has him. That's why. That's all." He watched Carlos's tired face, expression looking like a disappointed parent.

"It shouldn't have been Noah," Miranda said softly, her face born of sorrow as she stared down at Liam, her child son sitting alone in his bedroom after she told the other boy to leave. Another boy, that Liam had been holding hands with just before his mother had come in, stopping their tiny words of young confessions.

Liam stared up at his mother, his eyes wide in fear at being caught with a boy, but growing even wider as he listened to what she was saying; processing it.

"It should have been you," she said, her expression disappointed and eyes… void, of any familial love towards the boy. It made his heart pound incessantly in his chest, so quick and hard that he didn't think it would stop. It made him want to puke. Then she repeated the words, with more confidence. "I should have been you," said the disappointed parent.

Carlos sighed and dropped his gaze to the floor. It took a moment of silence for him to think of anything to say in return. Liam watched the glass in his friend's hand, his last sips of whiskey sparkling with the light of the room, telling him to drink it, because it knew that Carlos wasn't much of a drinker and would waste it.

"What..," Carlos glanced back at Liam, "are you planning to do, exactly? Hunt down a serial killer? Do you know how… reckless that is?"

Liam looked at Carlos's face, only realizing that his heart had been pounding anxiously, when it started to calm down. "Y-you actually believe me?" he asked, his voice full of pure confusion. Carlos watched Liam with his upset expression for a second before cracking a smile and groaning. The darker man pushed back to sit back in the couch, slouching beside Liam. He put his hand out again to start patting the noirette's back.

"I guess I don't know, but you seem like you really believe it, so why shouldn't I? Even though you'll probably end up in a psych ward a year from now for a mental breakdown."

Liam meant to sigh in relief, but he ended up laughing, because that was sort of what James had said, too. At least, sort of the same concept. And because he probably would end up in a psych ward sooner or later. Carlos gave in to laugh some too, which felt good, because their relationship had been straining. When they finished, Carlos cleared his throat of the humor and asked, "Why haven't you told the police? Why are you wanting to do this yourself?" Liam sucked his teeth.

"I did. They didn't believe me. And the kid is in another jurisdiction, anyway."

Carlos nodded while listening, looking at his glass. "Well, it's fair to say that you've really thought this through." Liam nodded in return.

"I have."

"...So why didn't you tell me earlier? Why'd you tell Ashe, but lie to me?" The hispanic looked at Liam and the other man shrugged, though guiltily.

Because Ashe knew the whole story. Carlos didn't. There was a dead child come back to life, thrown into the mix, and Liam didn't want Carlos to think that he'd finally lost it if he told him.

"Just… don't lie to me anymore," Carlos said softly, sadly. Liam glanced at him. His dark eyes were watching Liam, pleading for him to accept him as a friend just as much as he did Ashe, because even though Liam had been friends with Ashe longer, he had still been friends with Carlos for at least eight years. For some reason, it just… felt natural to keep things from Carlos. Like the fact that Liam's dead brother had come back to life.

Liam nodded, although his mind told him that he was a piece of shit for doing so. "Okay," he said, making his head scream, "I'm sorry." Carlos gave a half smile while watching Liam, and then sat forward on the couch to stand up. He looked down at Liam.

"I guess since we've got all of that out of the way, do you need anything before I take you back to your house? Like, groceries, or something? I know you and Ashe think that vodka tonics are for lunch, but they aren't."

Liam smiled at that and almost declined, but then he remembered Noah. Noah, somehow alive again, as a child who needed to eat. So, he nodded. "Yeah… thanks."

Carlos shrugged. "It's okay." He walked off to the kitchen with his whiskey, to waste it like Liam had predicted. He himself stood up and reached up to rub his eyes.

They were still irritated from crying earlier. He felt like a pussy. Especially since Carlos had waltzed into his home and found him like that. The only real time he let anyone catch him crying was James, before he had met Carlos. He was staying at he and Ashe's house, like he actually did a lot, but Ashe had fallen asleep early and left him alone to his thoughts.

It was two AM and everything just came to hit Liam. How much he hated his life. He was fourteen, and his dad was too depressed to work to provide for him. His mom had left him, his twin brother had been brutally murdered, and he was going nowhere in life. He was drinking beer with his only, immature best friend, eating rice cereal for dinner, working at the local library for some quick cash, and watching his dad sit around in a deep depression. There was no humor anymore. There were no jokes or laughter in the house, not even daily conversations. The water was going to be shut off and David wouldn't do anything about it. Liam was working at the library for three dollars an hour, trying to save up cash for the bill, which seemed impossible.

So, he sat crying on the couch, thinking about what would have happened if Noah hadn't died, or, better yet, if Liam had instead. Like his mom had said. That was when James walked in through the front door after working late at a pizza joint, with a box of free pizza and another of some desert sticks. Even though Liam didn't know him too well at the time, he let the man hug him until he stopped crying. Then they pigged out on the food.

Carlos walked back into the room and motioned for Liam. "Let's go; I'll pay for the groceries." Liam gave a breath and ran his hand through his hair before going to Carlos and following him outside, back to his car.

At the grocery store, they just grabbed a basket, because Liam was a single person. So, Carlos thought.

"What exactly is your… plan?" Carlos asked, looking at Liam while they walked through the bread. Liam grabbed a loaf. He did feel guilty, or pathetic, when using money from Carlos, but he knew that he wasn't really in a position to not ask him for help.

"I want to find out who killed my brother. And I don't want to let him kill Joseph Carter," Liam said, simply. Not simply. His words came out with a bitter sting to them. One that made Carlos' expression gain some concern.

"...Don't put yourself in any danger, Liam. If you find him, turn him over to the police. They'll have probable cause. Just don't let yourself get hurt by doing this."

"I'm not."

"You're not as strong as you think you are," Carlos said. Liam rolled his eyes, but he didn't argue. He knew that he wasn't strong. He didn't think he was. He knew that his childhood had messed him up in the head, but he wasn't going to let that stop him from trying to help Joseph.

The drawing flashed in his head, of a stick figure stuck on a ratty mattress. Of the dog cage with traps inside. The man doing this- he needed to be put down. No, not put down. He needed to suffer the way his victims had. And then, by some mercy of God, spared- like the children weren't. So that he could be torn apart in prison by the other, less monstrous monsters, who also knew that he was an abomination.

"...Liam," Carlos spoke and put a hand on Liam's shoulder. The noirette looked at him, Carlos's eyes looking into his blue. "Don't, space out like that."

Liam blinked and looked around. He was still beside the bread. He looked back at Carlos. "...Sorry." He didn't know what he had done, but he had to admit that he did space out. Into a bitter, angry galaxy.

Carlos shook his head and pointed off. "Come on, let's get this done. You're probably hungry."

"I ate breakfast at Ashe's," Liam said. Carlos glanced at him and gave a good fake smile before letting him go. He started walking down the aisle again and Liam pressed his lips together and followed after.

They got tuna for tuna sandwiches, because Liam remembered Miranda making them a lot for he and Noah, and then they got some other things. Hamburger Helper, some hamburger meat, milk, cheese, vegetables and fruit, etc. Liam would probably forget to eat anyway, so he was really just grabbing things for Noah.

Carlos stuck his arm out in front of Liam at the frozen section of the store and a cart hit his outstretched limb. Liam had no clue that there was even a cart, only noticing when Carlos elbowed him in the hip from the cart hitting his arm.

"Oh, I'm sorry," a woman said, from behind the cart. Liam looked passed Carlos to her, a short woman with hair curly and shiny from too much mousse, and lips lined with a dark red pencil liner. It looked like her young daughter was pushing the cart.

"It's okay," Carlos said, but Liam could see that he looked a little uncomfortable, so it had probably actually hurt him. The woman gave her daughter a light scolding and pulled the cart away from Liam and Carlos, taking over the driving of it. The small girl looked at Liam, her eyes a hazel green. She didn't look away.

It was like she was looking into him, or like she noticed something that he didn't. Her staring gaze made him feel uncomfortable, but he didn't look away from her, either. While she walked away with her mother, she kept her gaze on Liam, studying him. Then she brought a hand up and waved to him, and she and her mother turned around the corner of the aisle, disappearing.

Liam tried to reason with the girl's gaze, but then he just turned his attention back to Carlos. "...Are you okay?" he asked, looking at his friend who rubbed his arm. Carlos nodded, looking down at his tanned skin.

"That hurt. I actually really hate it when parents let their kids push the carts."

"At least she didn't run over your ankles."

Carlos looked up from his arm to Liam and scoffed. "That shit hurts," he said, like he had PTSD. Liam broke a smile and looked back down at Carlos's arm.

"Well, it's not bruising, so leave it alone," the noirette said and reached out to touch Carlos's forearm. His friend scoffed again.

"I'm brown. Know how hard it is to see a bruise?"

Liam laughed and looked at Carlos's face, which had a full, stubborn honesty. "Ugh, shut the hell up," he said humorously. It made Carlos smile some, and then he looked down at Liam's hand, which was still on his arm.

Had been holding hands-

Liam let go and turned back to the coolers, glancing at Carlos before looking away, at the microwavable Pot Pies. Carlos watched him for a second himself before turning the other way to pull out his phone and look at it. "I need to look at this house in a bit," he said, and Liam got the clue. He opened the freezer and grabbed a few boxes to drop into the basket. Then he let the door fall shut and told Carlos that he was ready.

l.l

Liam had been gone for at least two and a half hours. It was a little after lunch now, so Noah was probably hungry.

When Liam went into the house, he carried the groceries to the kitchen and put them on the cluttered dining table before calling for Noah.

"Noah!" he called, taking the carton of eggs and opening the fridge to put them up. "Come here!"

There was no reply. He shut the fridge and called again. There was still nothing.

Rustling sounded behind him, and he turned to see the boy looking in the grocery bags, sifting through what all had been bought. "You got food?" he asked.

Liam watched him for a moment, only answering when the child looked at him. "Yeah," he sighed. "And stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Disappearing."

Noah giggled. "It's fun."

"Get out of the bags," Liam said in annoyance and walked over to push the child away from the bags. The boy just appeared on the other side of the table, though, with the blink of an eye. He started looking in another sack, pulling out one of the cans of tuna.

"Mm, can we have-"

"Yeah, sure."

Noah scrunched his nose at being cut off. He opened another sack and pulled out one of the boxes of hamburger helper. "Do you even know how to cook?" he asked, looking at it. Liam looked at him in silent offensiveness before continuing with the groceries.

"Yeah."

"Can you make Shepherd's Pie?"

"I don't know, it doesn't really matter." Liam took some time to finish putting up the groceries before making the sandwiches. Something that he, for once, could get perfect. Putting the sandwiches on plates, he brought Noah his and sat down with his own. Noah bit into it right away.

"...While I was gone," Liam spoke up, sitting back in his chair with his hands in his lap, already forgetting about his own lunch. "Did anything else happen? ...Like the bruises?"

Noah chewed his bite for a long time, watching his brother with his special eyes. He put his food down and started pulling off his shirt, but with a slight aggressiveness like when a child was told to do their chores for the second time, or like if their parent didn't believe they finished their homework and made them pull it back out. But, Liam had started to realize, Noah was being stubborn like this because of the memories of the trauma. PTSD. And he was reliving it, every time Joseph Carter would be abused.

There was an extremely alarming burn on his left shoulder, the skin bright red with irritation and inflammation, and shiny because the top layer of protective skin had been scorched away. Like when you scorched your hand washing dishes. And, it wasn't the only burn. The same burns covered Noah's torso, his skin scorched red. Some spots welted, like they would blister later. Over the burns were long, white stripes, white because they were welts. Like from a whip.

Liam looked away.

"The bruises on my back are gone," Noah said, but Liam didn't look at him again. Noah may not have them anymore, but Joseph Carter still did. He had been beaten, scorched, and whipped. A child's body couldn't last that long- it couldn't. It couldn't. He could go into shock from the burns. He could be thrown into the cage. He could be-

Liam got up from his chair a little too quickly and left the kitchen, Noah's head following him as he watched his brother leave. He left to his bedroom and came back with the drawings in his hand, and Noah shifted in his seat uncomfortably. His brother put the papers down in front of him, on the table.

"What else is there in these drawings? What else do you remember? What can you tell me to find this kid?"the man asked a little too urgently. Noah glanced up at him before dropping his gaze to the drawings. He pressed his lips together and then shook his head. Liam grabbed his shoulder and peered over him, like a parent when you were caught lying. Though, Liam never wanted kids, and he was not Noah's parent. "I need you to help me. You are seriously making me lose my mind, Noah. Did you see the outside of the house? What color are the walls? Tell me anything, so that I can find him."

Noah breathed heavily through his nose, his cheeks lightly flushed at his emotions. He pointed at the first drawing but didn't touch it, like he was afraid to. "...The room was grey," he said softly. "I didn't see anything outside. I woke up here, on the bed."

"Okay," Liam sighed, finally getting somewhere, "Now tell me something about the other drawing."

"That's the kid," Noah said, "Joseph," and he pointed at the child drawn on the bed in the second drawing. On Liam's water bill. "The walls aren't grey anymore. There's… like… blankets, hanging up on them."

Liam furrowed his eyebrows. Why? "...You mean tarps?"

Noah shrugged lightly and shook his head. "I don't know."

"Okay. What about the light? Why is it colored in?"

"...It's red. I don't know why. It makes the room look red, so it's hard to see."

Liam nodded, and then he let out a breath. That wasn't really something to work on, but it was some good information. That the room now, had something covering the walls, and the lightbulb was either red or painted that way. "What are these tapes for?" the man asked and pointed at the pile of VHS tapes. Noah looked at them and then his brother, and then back. The child scrunched his nose and shook his head.

"I don't know," he said, but Liam could tell that he was lying. He didn't press, though, because he didn't want to make Noah throw another bitch fit. He picked the drawings up and took them to the counter, where he set them upside down. Then he walked back to his seat and sat back down, and Noah watched him for a minute before starting to eat his lunch again.

Liam picked up his own sandwich, the bread getting a little texture from its time alone on the plate. He almost took a bite, but stopped himself and put it back down. He slid it over to Noah. "You can have mine," he said. Noah looked at him while eating and nodded a little.

They sat in silence, Liam watching Noah eat his lunch, the sink dripping a little bit, which meant that Noah had probably gotten some water while he was gone and just didn't shut it off all of the way.

"...Where's Mom?" the boy asked, looking over his sandwich at Liam. Liam shook his head.

"I don't know."

"I want to see her."

Liam grit his teeth and looked at his brother. He tried thinking of something to say, but there was nothing. He gave a breath. "I don't know where she is. She forgot us, okay? She left a long time ago- she has a new life." He couldn't see what was in Noah's eyes. He continued, "I don't know where she is, and I don't care where she is. She's just gone."

"...Dad's gone," Noah said softly, "She's not. I want to see her."

Liam gave his brother a look and scoffed. "Why would you want to see her? You can't anyway- you're dead. You can't do what you want to, Noah."

Noah watched his brother before looking down at his sandwich. He grabbed the plate and threw it, the sandwich flying off and hitting a kitchen wall, coming apart and making a mess. "I want to see Mom!"

"Dammit, Noah, what the hell is the matter with you? Stop throwing these… tantrums! Go and pick it up!"

Noah didn't move from the chair. He crossed his arms over himself. "I want Mom. I'll tell you more stuff if you let me see her. I want to see her."

"No, Noah." Liam scowled at his brother. "Why the hell can you not get this into your thick skull? She left. Yeah, she left after you died, and she doesn't want anything to do with me. I don't want anything to do with her, either. If you think that I'll take you to see her, you're just stupid. And this isn't a game, either. You don't have a right to keep things from me- I'm trying to find Joseph, not deal with a spoiled brat, okay?" He looked at his glaring brother. "He isn't getting any better, you know what he's going through, you've felt it. I'm not taking you to see a bitch over some dumb deal."

"Stop cussing!"

"Oh my god, Noah, seriously? I have less than two weeks to find him! Are you really going to be this stubborn?"

"You're mean," Noah said and a tear rolled down his cheek. Liam hadn't even noticed that the boy was about to cry, because he was so upset about Miranda being brought up. He hated her. "You're really mean."

"Noah." Liam huffed and shook his head. "...Clean up that fucking mess." He grabbed the table and pulled himself up out of his chair, where he walked by Noah to his bedroom, to… just get away from him.