Three days later...

"Alex?" Alexander looked up to see George standing in the doorway to his room.

"Yeah?" Alex answered timidly, glancing down at the beat-up book he was reading.

"The school year is starting in a week and I was wondering if there's anything you need. Clothing, a laptop, pencils."

"Why do you care?" Alex asked softly. He didn't care if he was being rude, it was a genuine question- no one had cared since Alexander's mother had passed away.

"Because you're my son and you deserve to get a education." Came the reply. George calling Alexander 'son' was a regular occurrence by then, but it still made Alexander's blood boil.

"I'm not your son." Alexander muttered, opening his book again.

The older man sighed, hearing his complaint. "May I come in?"

"... Fine." Alexander pushing himself out of his cross-legged position on his bed, pulling his knees to his chest. George left the doorframe and entered Alexander's room. Alexander turned away, trying to hide his qrowing panic.

This was it. George was going to yell at him, maybe even hit him, and just like that it would be over. Martha and George wouldn't want him anymore and he'd be moved to a new foster home, forced to start over.

George lowered himself onto Alexander's bed with a heaving sigh. He placed a hand on Alexander's knee, only to be quickly shoved off.

"Don't touch me."

"Look." George started, retracting his hand. "I know I'm not your biological father. I know you don't see me as a father. And I know that you are not my biological son. I respect that. But-" Alexander shifted his position so he was laying on his side, obviously ignoring the classic speel.

"Alex, please, listen to me." Alexander didn't move. George sighed but continued anyways. "I can't have children- it's something me and Martha have mourned over for many years. So when we started fostering, I promised to love each and every-"

Alexander cut him off, his voice bitter and thick with emotion. "I know. That's what everyone says. They'll promise to love me and treat me like their own, but three months later they kick me out. I go back to living on the streets until my social worker finds me a d dumps me on another family's doorstep."

George stared at the young boy in shock, sympathy in his eyes. "I get that- my father died when I was eleven and my mother was never the best person."

Alexander sneered, sitting up and staring at George. "That doesn't give you the right to be my dad- to call me son! I don't know why you even want to include me in your family! I'm a nobody- I don't matter to this world! Heck, I don't even know why you care for me in the first place!"

George could only sit in silence.

"Alexander-" he started, reaching out a shaky hand.

"Why do you even want to keep me?!?" Tears formed in Alexander's eyes but he roughly brushed them away, sniffling. "I'm just a needy orphan who can't even take care of himself!"

"Alexander, please!"

"You don't even know how it feels!"

"Maybe I don't, but I went through crap as well!" George retorted, desperately trying to calm the boy down.

"Crap?!? Just 'crap'? Crap like your father abandoning your family because he never cared? Your own mother dying in front of you- die, holding you? You've never had to see the light go out, to feel your mum's body go cold, the one thing that actually cared for you?!?" Alexander was yelling by now, tears streaming down his face. "To live through a hurricane that took EVERYTHING from you? The hurricane that killed every last person who actually gave a sh*t about your life? To get everything you've ever cared about ripped away from you? Taken away because you fudging deserve it, because the universe hates you? The hurricane killed my brother! I was the one to find his body! I watched my cousin commit suicide, knowing I wasn't able to help! He took a gun to his head while my best friend held me back!"

"Alex, I.. I'm sorry-" George murmured, his eyes wide.

"Sure, you've been through crap. But everything I care about is either gone, or dead. I've been through heck and back- AND YOU HAVE NO CLUE WHAT IT'S LIKE!"

"I-"

"You don't know what it's like to get beaten by strangers who claim to be your family. Foster family's, homes, people who tell you they love you, only to beat you the next day. Beat you until you can't walk!" Alexander pointed to George, a burning rage settling in his stomach.

"A-Alex, I'm sorry-"

"Have you ever been forced into a new country, forced to live with someone you barely know, complete strangers trying to replace your family. You don't know what it's like." Alexander's tears fell faster as he started sobbing, shaking.

During his rant, Alexander had stood up and inched away from George until his back hit the wall. He slowly sank to the floor, clutching his knees to his chest. "You don't know what it's like." he whispered repeatedly.

"You're right." George spoke, having composed himself enough to speak confidently and soothingly.

Alexander looked up, tears still carving tracks down his cheeks.

George paused as if he was searching for the right words. "I don't know what it's like. My father may have died, my mother may have been verbally abusive, but I never faced what you have. I know that. But I can help. I'm not going to beat you, I'm not trying to replace your biological father, I'm not going to abandon you anytime soon. I am, however, going to help you and love you because in reality, I care about you. Will you let me? Be there and treat you like my own son?"

Alexander didn't respond, wiping his tears instead.

"Alexander?"

"I shouldn't have yelled at you." Alexander apologized in a small voice. "That was wrong of me."

"It's alright, son. I've faced worse." George chuckled softly.

Alex grimaced at the name, studying his hands. His hands fell limp in his lap and he leaned his head back, closing his eyes.

"I guess, it wouldn't hurt to try. Its just... everytime I end up getting close to someone, they get hurt. I hurt them, they die- because of me."

"That's not true and you know it, Alex. But if you choose to believe that, well, I'll welcome the pain if it means you'll be happy." George lifted himself off the bed and sat next to Alexander, patting his knee.

"I don't want to hurt you." Alexander said, barely above a whisper.

"And I don't want you to suffer, thinking that nothing goes well for you." George countered.

Alexander stared at his socks. The two sat in silence until Alexander finally spoke, in a whisper so soft George almost didn't catch it.

"...thank you."

George smiled softly. It would take a while for Alexander to warm up to him, and George was willing to be patient, but it was a start.