after the death of your mother, you and Leo, your 12 year old brother, bounced around in foster care for a while. And by 'a while', I mean until now and for the foreseeable future.

you were 14, so you had to take care of your brother. Sometimes you'd be put into different foster homes, and you'd do everything in your power to find Leo and stuck together.

Leo was a small kid; short, scrawny, with messy brown curls that told you he needed a haircut. But he didn't care about all that, all he cared about was sticking with his older sibling and surviving. And of course, making trinkets.

Leo would always have twists of wire and screws in his pockets that he'd turn into little things. It was a way to fidget that you used to do too. He was just like you, you weren't sure if that was a good thing.

you were in another foster home. Cold, dull, harsh. lots of people fostered kids to be more like free babysitting or cleaning services. That's what it was this time. You were just put to work. But at least you and Leo had each other. That's all that mattered.

the low buzzing from the refrigerator and the small sounds of Leo tinkering with a broken remote was all that you could hear as you sweeped the floor.

until the thumping footsteps of the man who fostered you advanced.

you only looked up from the pile of dust sweeped on the floor when you heard the yelling.

"The hell're you doin'?" the man rumbled, his voice strong and slightly slurred. You knew he was talking to Leo.

Leo had been entranced in his task of fixing the remote that he only noticed the man when he spike, the young boy looking up; eyes swimming with confusion and fear, his eyes darting to you for safety.

your eyes zeroed in on the man, gaze hard, hands tightening around the broom handle.

"Yer breaking my fuckin' remote?!" the man's voice rose, slamming his beer bottle on the counter beside where Leo sat and taking hold of the boy's shirt collar.

Leo tensed and recoiled back into himself, against the wall behind him, eyes squeezed shut.