He didn’t know why he expected it to be any different. Home for the weekend, it was always the same on the weekends, especially the rare long weekends, and he was just there to be the punching bag, something to take out the anger on when everything went wrong at work. There was always something that went wrong at work. He curled into himself, trying to protect the important organs inside of his body, but it wasn’t working out too well and he sensed another trip to see school doctor when he returned. Not that he could tell him what really happened, it had to be kept secret, it always had to be secret. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he shouted, because it was all that he could really do, but it still didn’t stop, not until he got tired of hitting him.<br/><br/>That’s where he left him, like he always did when he was done. Curled and broken on the floor, this time in the kitchen, among the ruins of a busted and splintered chair. He didn't dare move, too scared that he'd return and start in on his already tender bruising body all over again. So that's was where Shawn spent the night, watching through partially closed eyes as his brother walked around him uncaring.<br/><br/>***<br/><br/>They were returned Monday morning, and Shawn was given strict orders to stay hidden outside of classes. So when Tuesday morning came, and while normally he was the loud one and caused all manner of trouble, it was like every other time when they returned to school, he’d returned quiet and hidden behind the brim of a torn and greasy, once olive green military cap. He refused to take it off all first class, until a teacher had asked his brother to get him to take it off. His solution had been to steal it and take off with it, to perhaps never return it. “Leo!! Give it back!” he hollered, trying to follow after, but he was stopped by others as they asked him what had happened. There was a patched up cut on his head, large and down to his eye. He had on a long sleeve beneath his uniform shirt, and in his usual baggy khaki’s on. He was the odd man out again, loose fitted uniform compared to the tight fit of every other guy, including his own brother.<br/><br/>Today, now with his hat gone, he wasn’t speaking unless spoken too, being as formal as he could in everything he said, especially to the teachers. They all suspected, but no one wanted to say anything to him, he was one of the sons of a powerful police officer who was high up in the city, close to the boss.<br/><br/>“Mister Sauvages?” a teacher was suddenly saying to him, like she wasn't sure that it was him, and he stopped to turn towards her, though he refused to look up. “Yes ma’am?” he asked, looking at her legs and the floor behind them. “Is everything alright with you? Aren’t you hot in those layers?” she asked, concerned as she reached for him, this was the boy that always caused problems in her class, but almost never when they returned, or if his father visited, or if the team was on a losing streak, she'd noticed. He pulled away before her fingers could even touch the sleeve of his shirt. “I’m fine ma’am, just not hot today.” He lied to her, despite the fact he had hints of sweat running down the side of his face. It was easy to lie now, they rolled off his tongue without thought. “I have to go ma’am, homework.” He said and quickly turned away from her and ran off down the hall. “Shawn! Do not run in the halls!” she called after him, hoping a less formal approach would work. That maybe the old parts of him would show, but it didn’t as he rounded the farthest corner from her at full speed. It hurt to run, it hurt to breathe, but it hurt more when rounding the corner lead to him colliding full force with someone, a fellow student taller than him. His own bag went flying, and he sent the boy’s text books scattering everywhere. He let out a deep groan from the force, his likely cracked ribs taking another hit, leaving him dazed for only a moment.<br/><br/>Coming to his senses, Shawn tried to hurriedly climb off of them, to scramble across the floor for his bag. He wanted to take off running, to ensure that he was gone and finally hidden outside of classes, like his father wanted. He needed to hide the cut above his right eye, more of a gash really, and the bruises, he needed to keep the bruises hidden. But it seemed, as he went to get off of them that he was unable to get off of them, something kept him on top, but was not sure if he was caught, or being held. “No, let go. Please, let go.” He begged in a soft voice, peeking between them for a moment to try and see why he was stuck. He’d assumed it was because he was being held. Not that he would be able to see, his father had broken his glasses purposely over the weekend, and everything was a blur to his clear sky blue eyes. He squinted in an attempt to focus, before giving up and trying to get off of him again. They were starting to attract attention and a deep groan came from Shawn. When his brother, and eventually his father, got word of how he was tangled on the school floor with another boy, things were not going to go well.