Welcome to Hickstead, home to both Seven Oak Stables, and Blue Acre - two rival stables. Both offer opportunities for their clients to reach the highest level of excellence. Each stable differs from the other, so choose wisely and never forget, loyalty is everything... Meanwhile as the stables battle it out, there's trouble brewing at the university. Be careful, if you don't pick a side you may get caught in the cross-fire...
This is an chilled out rpg with a super friendly and relaxed atmosphere! Remember to sign up with your characters full name in all caps and don't forget to do your claims! Thank you and Welcome, we've been established since 10th March 2009 but unfortunately have had to close guest view of our boards due to multiple sites ripping off our hard work, such a shame! Come chat to us in Discord before joining if you like!.
Shaun forced himself to smile despite how much that hurt to hear, his tone light hearted, "Yeah, I know. I take top prize at being the shittiest, most terrible father a family could ask for."
There had to be some light despite the mood, and more so he refused to break the hug. He squeezed just that little bit more despite his muscles protesting, patting Nash on the back. His son needed him and somewhere hidden away, Shaun needed this just as much.
"I know that no amount of apologizing can undo all the time I've spend in the bottom of bottles, too out of my mind to comprehend a single thing going on, but I am sorry you had to witness all of that. I was selfish. But there will be no more of that. I need you to know Nash, that even when you think I'm too busy or mad or just seem like the world's biggest asshole, I am here for you when you need me, when you want to hear me tell you its a bad idea or that everythings ok. I'm here."
”I would just let the cops take him there instead of making them drag him home every time."
Shaun made a slight face at that, "If only it were that easy Nash, but he's one of us no matter how much of headache he gives you. No matter what, we're all family and that means no man left behind remember? We are the Breckahs, we look out for each other."
"Feels like you're asking me to keep a secret from Derek. I'll do what you're asking though. I promise I won't mention a word."
Shaun nodded slightly, the action uncomfortable, "I am asking just that... Your older brother would probably just cuss me out anyway, and if he does find out, it'll be from me if it comes up."
Getting to the car took some effort, something that Shaun was loathe to admit - but he would've liked to just go and sleep. And it was just another pin in a slow leaking tire. He was getting old, age was catching up a lot faster than he'd ever wished.
"Shit Dad. That's not healthy for either of you two. And I'm pretty certain you can't take any more chances on possible concussions. This isn't the 80's and 90's anymore....I'll find Jace after we get you taken care of."
Opening a car door, slowly, almost gingerly, Shaun slipped into the passenger seat and sighed, "I know. I'm sure one of you boys have said that one of us will end up dead as a result if it keeps going. I just.. Every time he asks for help, I try to get him to the doctor and the next I'm ducking out of the way of some random item."
Another thing he was loathe to do - to admit - he was failing dismally at being a father. One of the great let downs of being a boxer - if not travelling for fights or admitted into hospital wards for injury, he was running a gym and doing everything else in between from promotions to ads for the sport. He'd followed so strongly in the name of his heritage that being a father had fallen out of his spectrum - he failed at being someone his boys needed. So focused on his short career span.
"The less your brothers know, the better," he muttered, fumbling with the seatbelt, "And don't go putting yourself in harms way with Jace. Once I'm out of the hospital, I'll go looking for him."
Time had been sliding through Shaun's fingers like water. And it wasn't for a lack of trying either. Appointments were made, and when he'd confirmed them, he had explained that getting Jace out of the house was difficult but they just brushed that off because why listen to the issue? And he'd tried, genuinely tried. He'd even asked Derek and even Stephen to help him where they could, to convince Jace that things were going to be fine. That they were getting him help. But it only turned violent.
Even now as he sat in the kitchen, sipping his coffee, he was holding paper towel to his busted lip after another brawl with Jace. As if it weren't enough, the bruises to his body, the blackened and swollen eye... Shaun would freely admit he was too ashamed to leave the house and admit to anyone in passing that his own son did this. But who would even believe him? People were aware that the gym was open and running again, that he was doing a lot more night work and still limping home by midnight.
He'd been trying and it still wasn't good enough. He tried to just talk, sat outside Jace's door and just talked to him despite his son telling him to go away. He'd completely stopped trying to man handle him outside of the few moments where he went after one of the other boys. He was tired, but he kept pushing and smiling despite how much it hurt him to. He'd gone sober after Derek's initial barking, cut cold then and there, and even dialed back on the smoking by half and only did so out in the garage or outside the house so the boys weren't in the brunt of it. Almost four months of sobriety, of pulling everything together as best he could, to manage and deal with the younger brood at home and work and do what he should've been doing. Ignoring his own health complaints for the sake of the boys, even going to Creven's sporting matches where he was able to and apologizing when he couldn't because he had to take Jace to the doctors, or at least try. Four months where a fragile routine had settled.
So when the knocking on the door came and the rough authority of police issuing their orders, Shaun's blood turned to ice. He went to the front door, immediately on a desperate defensive, demanding to see whatever warrants or reason they had to come despite knowing exactly what was happening and who had set the fucking wheels in motion. There was a new seated fear in him, one foreign and abrupt as they made their way into the house calling for Jace. Shaun felt himself just freeze over as these uniformed strangers invaded his home. And then Jace was yelling, calling out and Shaun moved, shoving passed the police, reason gone.
"You are scaring my son!" he barked, feeling some old fire kick in to defend his son, difficult as he was. "Get the fuck away from him!"
Shaun chuckled softly, "Well, it's my job to make you ever more sick of me. That's a dad's job, means I'm doing it right." ”Yea..I know…but it’s so hard, dad,” he sobbed, ”Our family is a mess without mum....you and Jace are going to end up killing each other.”
Something inside of Shaun broke as he listened to his son. There was no covering up the fact that Nash was right - the household was a mess, a horrible mess and a lot of that was Shaun's fault. He could see that now. He could see just how much he'd fucked up everything. And it seemed beyond his fixing - there was only so much he could do, the rest he wasn't sure he would be able to fix but he would try.
"I know it's hard Nash," Shaun said softly, "But I promise it will get easier. It mightn't seem like it will ever get better, but I promise it will. But right now, it's good to be sad, it's ok to sit and cry and let it all out because you need to. We are a mess, but in typical Breckah fashion, we'll man-handle everything back into a new routine together, ok? I miss her too."
He sighed and shook his head, "Jace and I don't see eye to eye often much any more, and I know he and I are fighting a lot, but I won't let it spiral to that level ok? You don't need to be worrying about all of that. I've just got to try and wrangle Jace into a doctor's office."
Slowly, carefully, Shaun sank into the old recliner on the front porch with a glass of Coke in hand. His head throbbed wildly, his stomach turning as his vision wavered - a disorientating feeling sweeping his body like a tsunami. It was everywhere, but as quickly as it reached its destination, he found it receding to some other place he forgot could ache. He let his head rest in his free hand, feeling the tremble in his other side. It wasn't good, but as long as he was careful, he was less likely to do something stupid. He'd made sure Nash was ok then carefully gotten a drink and made his way outside.
Just a couple minutes, settle his nerves, a cigarette - he'd go in and start sorting out the washing and getting that going because he most certainly wasn't going to be sleeping any time soon. After a moment he let himself relax and slouch into the recliner, staring at the glass - what he wouldn't give for a little bit of Scotch or even Whiskey in his drink. He almost mulled it over, considered getting up to fetch one of the remaining bottles in the house to pour into his drink. But he'd gone almost three months now without touching another drop of alcohol. He instead he just sipped the Coke as it was before pulling a cigarette from a nearly empty packet and lit it. He hadn't intended on reducing the amount he smoked either, it was simply happening. Instead of a pack a day, it was a pack over five or so days - not that he dared to share that achievement with the kids. It's not all about you Shaun.
Sighing, he inhaled sharply and let the smoke out slow, his eyes dropping shut. Fuck was he tired. He was exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, and even more so physically worn out. Jace was wearing him into the ground fast. He had to talk to Kyle tomorrow, get some sort of idea on how to get Jace seen to. He couldn't afford another head-knock.
”They care about you, dad,” he blurted out softly, ”We all do….”
Shaun wrapped Nash up, holding him close - a hand gently patting Nash's back whilst the other cradled his head combing slightly through his hair. He tucked his own head and kissed the top of Nash's head.
"I know," he said softly, trying to remain neutral, "I know."
”You sure you don’t need a doctor? We can’t lose you as well….”
"I'm sure, I don't need a doctor. I'm going nowhere Nash, no matter how tempting a sympathetic devil can be... I'm going to stick around so long you'll get sick of me."
He probably should've reached out, grabbed the phone and called Kyle or Elijah - better yet the ambulance - but it kept echoing in his mind, it's not about you.
”We all miss her, dad.”
If his heart wasn't hammering before, it certainly picked up. It was almost like it was breaking again, a new fissure beside the one already made by her absence.
"I know Nash. I do," he said, his voice cracking slightly, "But we... we have to keep marching forward for her."
God didn't he just want to lay down and die... It would be easier... It's not all about you Shaun. You selfish bastard...
”Dad? Are you okay? Do I need to call Stephen? Or a doctor?”
Yes...
"No," he said calmly, despite the slight tremor in his words, "Don't worry your brothers. They have their lives to live."
Was it just him or was the world really spinning? His hand reflexively gripping the back of the chair a little tighter. But he refused to let that show. He couldn't afford to. Despite the years gone by and the time Tracey had put into mellowing him out of his stoic habits, they were almost reinforced. He wasn't fully focused but he let go of the chair and moved over to Nash, his movements unsteady as he reached out and pulled Nash in for a hug.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly, "That was unfair of me."
Shaun let his arm rest over Stephen's shoulder, feeling guilt for having to use his own son as a crutch to move.
"I know," he said quietly, "He's still ours, he's still my boy."
He knew his affection had been limited, that he hadn't said many kind words too often, but he still cared even if he was grouchy and had trouble communicating.
"Shit," he said now, "This is bad."
Shaun rolled his eyes at that. It wasn't too bad in his eyes. He'd been through worse, but even so, he let the comment go.
"Thank god I got home when I did. Should I text Derek? Keith? Well, scratch that on Keith, I doubt he'll offer anything kind, the stoic jerk." He opened the door now, "Is this the first time Jace's hit you?"
Reaching out to the door frame, he paused and looked at Stephen, "You shouldn't have rushed home. I know its chaotic... I'm sure your brother's have said its worse than that... Don't message anyone, alright? I just have to get on with it and keep moving forward. Keith, Derek... they've got their own lives to lead, and the younger lads need not know about this, ok? They don't need to know."
He grunted as he moved forward down the single step to the garage, mulling over the question before answering - "No. At least, not like this... He's hit and thrown things at me hundreds of times over the years... but this is the first time he put me on the floor."
Shaun let it go - there was no point in arguing with Nash over that little detail. He didn't have the mental capacity to keep up with the wits of his son.
”Seriously? Did you even hear you and Jace just now? And I’m supposed to be some good choir boy? Forget it.”
That made Shaun look up and affix his son with a look of disapproval from his seat.
"Seriously," he responded, his tone no longer as calm, "I don't expect choir boys, I expect better men. There are only three things I ask of any of you, you included Nash. Do the best you can in school, respect everyone - especially women, and be better than me. I want to see better from you and your brothers - not some shoddy half cut copy of myself. I want the best for all of you, not replicas."
He got up from the chair, holding onto the back of it as he swayed a little bit, "I might not be your mother, but she would want better too Nash - you know she hated swearing from you boys."
Shaun just waved a hand, mildly irritated, "Don't start being sarcastic. My patience is out."
Carefully he combed through his hair, feeling the stitches in the back of his scalp. Jace was something else and some days all he wanted was to strangle him.
”Fuck.”
That made him look up, despite the room spinning, "Don't swear Nash. You know better."
It was late as Shaun did the rounds on his sons, making sure everyone who was home was accounted for, before he wandered out to the garage, shutting the door behind him so that Danny and Henry didn't wander out. Flicking on the light, he began to tinker around with the truck. It was in dire need of attention and sleep was not something he was going to get any time soon. His mind too full, his heart too heavy. Carefully he pushed the roller door up, allowing the slight breeze to roll through.
Turning around and propping open the bonnet of the truck, he sighed, trying to figure out what was worth doing at this hour as he leaned on the edge with a heavy sigh. So many things were going wrong - Jace was getting worse, Keith was knocking on the door, Derek was angry, Stephen throwing away his education, Mav not listening, Nash's attitude was getting worse and he was almost certain that Creven was faking a smile for his sake. He hadn't spoken to anyone, not since the night one of the boys called Eli to help his drunk ass.
"Glad to know you know you're a shit show."
As if he wasn't down enough... He really was a shit show. The fact that Derek had said it... Shaun tried to swallow a lump forming in his throat as his eyes burned.
"You get up in the morning, you get dressed, and you do go through the motions because they need you. It's not always about you."
No fucking shit. But he hurting too. The boys didn't seem to understand his grief - they'd lost their mother, he'd lost his sun and moon, the very being his life had centered around. And now there was nothing; nothing by stale perfume, old photos and the very real reminder of his children - their children.
”I know you are dad. . just sucks when we see you passed out on the couch. . you know?”
He felt the tears fall.
"I HATE YOU SO MUCH!"
“Hello...father.”
"I worked. Someone needs to pay the bills around here."
It's not always about you... He was fucking trying and every time he turned around, two more things were falling down. It was so hard to breath anymore, and nothing wanted to make sense. He felt his legs buckle under him, catching his bad arm in the front bull bar. He wanted to scream, instead just struggled to pull his arm free and cradled his shoulder as the electric fire ran through his shoulder. Why was it so hard to breathe? What had he done to deserve this? Shaun curled into himself on the garage floor, covering his mouth so the boys didn't have to hear him whimper and cry like a fucking wounded animal. Everything hurt. Everything hurt and he wasn't sure what to do about it anymore.
