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!.
He knew he'd fucked up almost immediately. The look on his brother's face when he clocked Derek was heartbreaking, and he gave a quiet sigh. That was his mistake, he knew Nick preferred Nash, but sometimes things stuck in your head, like your brother's name - and he always thought of Nick as Nick. He was going to pay for it now, but he'd take it - he'd take whatever was thrown at him in order to take away whatever was eating at the young kid. At least his words got him to move to the side of the road, which was an improvement from being in the middle of it. Next he just needed to get him into the car, and hopefully come back with Derek for a bit. It looked like Nick needed a moment away from the house, some dry clothes and some food.
”It’s Nash,” Yep, there it was. Derek pressed his lips together to avoid saying anything more incriminating. He pulled the handbrake up on his car and took it out of gear, but left it running, blasting on the heat. It was pouring outside, and he didn't have a jacket on, but he'd suffer it to get his brother in the damn warm. "I'm sorry, Nash, slip of the tongue." He spoke like he had a gun to his head and was putting up his hands, trying to de-escalate a situation. He -slightly reluctantly- got out the car, immediately pelted with rain to the point his shirt stuck to his body like a second skin. "What are you doing out here, in the middle of the road?" He asked, coming around the front of the car to get closer to his brother.
”Is that how long you’ve not been to the house? Fuck off, Derek” He frowned - his signature look - and shook his head, "I know, and I had plans to be over again soon, things have been busy at work." He explained, knowing it wouldn't cut it for his brother, but trying anyway. "Will you get in the car with me, please?" He pleaded, "Come back to the flat, I've got pizza, and dry clothes." His first attempt at a bribe, he hoped it worked, he could already feel cold setting in and he wondered how Nash hadn't felt it yet - he'd get sick if he stayed out here, believe it or not as his brother probably wouldn't, Derek gave a hell of a damn about the kid.
"Well, shit." He chuckled at that, but he would leave it with Stephen. In all honesty, Derek was often reluctant to tattoo friends and family; not because he didn't trust in himself and his artistry, but more because people's opinions changed, and attitudes. If he knew the person well, he didn't mind so much, but he knew people who had regretted their choice of tattoo or even getting one at all, and then they had a tendancy to start pointing fingers at the tattooist. Especially if they fucked up on the aftercare and itched it to death or didn't use the proper cream etc, when it didn't look as it should or didn't heal properly. He knew Stephen wouldn't be like that, so as long as he was sure on the design and happy with how the stencil looked, Derek would do it on discount - or offer discount from another of the artists here, if he preferred.
"You're not an asshole." He raised a brow at that, "come on at least give me a bit of credit - I'm somewhat of an asshole." He joked, though he couldn't deny the truth to it. He saw the cringe and instantly felt guilty - there was nothing wrong with Stephen for getting out, he never felt any bitterness toward him going to uni, only relieved that he was out and free, and making something of his life that wasn't punching the shit out of another person. "And I guess you're right. I did fuck off before for university, but...mom was alive and dad wasn't a drunk then." A touch of sadness at that, Derek's lips pressed together. "I've always been proud of you for going to uni, you were making something of yourself, doing something for you, something important." He chewed the inside of his cheek a little. "Mum wouldn't have wanted you to quit that." He said it quietly, not wanting to upset him. "Dad's issues are his own, he needs to face his own demons."
"What am I missing, Derek? Is it more than Dad? Is home just really that awful now that I'm better off leaving again? Fancy schooling aside." Derek frowned, shaking his head slightly. "Let's not get into all that now." Which meant that of course things were going on. "It's not going to change anything." He'd catch Stephen up later, when it mattered - about Jace, about Shaun, about Keith, and all the rest of it. "Fancy a welcome back drink tonight?"
He knew his father couldn't argue with him on that part, just the way Derek couldn't have argued that he wondered if there was alcohol in Shaun's drink. Whether his dad liked it or not, there was always something going on in the house - even just because of the sheer volume of people in the family. The more people in the mix, the more likely there were to be arguments - people had different wants and needs, opposing opinions, did actions that others would disagree on. It was natural for families to have drama, it just seemed to be on some kind of epic scale for the Breckah's. They were a family of fighters, what more did Shaun expect?
"Can't a man be tired?" Derek looked at his father - really looked at him - taking it all in. He sighed, a heavy sort of sigh that should come with a man twice his age. "Of course, especially when you carry so much baggage." He didn't meant it in a bad way, he could have said burden, but he couldn't not be a little bit sour about how the 'burden' of the family seemed to lie with more than just Shaun. But every day, even the weight of alcoholism alone, and the grief of loss, would be enough to drive a man to bed every day. It was were Derek's opinion was one of sorting himself out, getting ahead of the game, shouldering the responsibilities that couldn't be shelved or fixed. "Perhaps you should be talking to someone more professional." He said it quietly, knowing his father would hate his words. It was true though, counsellors seemed to get the best out of people. "You might not then feel quite so tired."
Derek frowned slightly as his father dismissed the offer. "Uh- no, no I am good. I'd just put it aside for the boys to pick at.""When was the last time you ate?" He asked, giving him a critical eye. He felt like the father, but he couldn't help it. Who else was going to look out for Shaun, if he didn't? "If not Chinese, I can at least make you a sandwich or something? We could eat together?"
Derek frowned as he saw his brother about to turn away, "were you really about to turn tail and run?" He asked, somewhat incredulous about the behaviour, "after beating down the door like a madman on the run?" His voice was a little gruff, still only just awake. He rubbed his eyes roughly, though the cold chill of the night air was enough to help give him a slap in the face. "nothing." Derek's frown deepened, almost becoming a scowl in confusion. "What do you mean nothing?" He asked, because there was no other logical reason for his brother to be here now, at this hour, looking as agitated as he did. Something had to be wrong. Shaking his head, he stepped out of the doorway, offering space for Crev to enter. "Come inside, it's freezing." Derek's bare feet were starting to go numb, and it was too late in the evening for him to handle it.
"i'm sorry. i didn't know .. there was nowhere else to go." Derek sighed, waiting for Crev to come in before he closed the door behind him. "Don't need to be sorry, Crev, you can always come here." and he meant it to - unlike when people offered it for the sake of saying the words. He would welcome any or all of his brothers here.. well.. perhaps Keith might need to persuade him a little, but they were still blood and it was drilled in Derek that he would take them all in if something awful happened. Even Keith. "Do you want something to eat?" He asked, heading into the kitchen and switching on the kettle. He was at least getting Crev a hot chocolate, and himself a coffee - he didn't even offer the kid the choice. He wasn't going to give him caffeine at this time of night, or his age, and he needed something hot inside him. It would help steady his nerves too. Something had upset the kid, and Derek needed to know what exactly had happened. Once he'd finished getting it all together, he plunked down a hot mug of chocolate infront of Crev, taking a swig of his own coffee. "Sorry no marshmellows." He apologised.
"Are you saying I'm worthy of the family discount? I may just have to make an appointment then for you to add to my back." He laughed at that and then shook his head with a joking look. "Oh no no no, the discount is only open until today, so last chance." Derek didn't mean it though, he'd always offer discount for his family - the family of age to get ink anyway, he wasn't one to break the law. Tattooing people you knew was always risky, they had to be 100% happy with the artwork for him to agree to it, he hated people that just said yes to everything when they didn't mean it, and he didn't like the idea of people getting something lasered off or covered, or just hating it because they weren't honest. It wasn't just about his rep but if they were his friends, he wanted them to love the work, not just feel 'meh' about it.
"Me? Blackmail you? Never. I am not sure as to what made you think I would do that." Derek hummed at that, but made no additional comment, letting it slide right past. They'd all gotten up to things they probably shouldn't have other the years, whether it was just hand to hand smacking each other about, or if it was craftier than that and involved pranks and a little bit of cheeky blackmail. They never meant it maliciously of course, they weren't that kind of family, they might be annoyed at each other or hate it each other on the odd occasion but it never lasted long, they always forgave each other in the end.
Derek watched his brother mull over his words, hoping against hope that he might actually listen for once and be selfish, do something for himself and not worry about the rest of them. "I guess. But it's not like the younger ones asked for this." Derek sighed, it was definitely too much to ask for - wasn't it. "No, no I get that, and I agree.. but I'm here for them, those who can't get out yet." He amended, considering some of them were already getting their shit together. "I'm not being a deadbeat Derek. Hickstead University is...good. Man. You really think I don't belong here? Doesn't seem right to just...fuck off and leave people. I dont want to be like Keith." Derek frowned, "Well now you're just making me sound like an asshole," Which he would gladly take if it meant his brother would have the life he actually wanted and not the one he thought he should. "But it's not as good as where you were," He still argued, a stubborn set to his jaw. "You already fucked off, so don't try and pull that sympathy line, we both know you are nothing like that crap hat of a 'brother' we both apparently have." Derek knew it sounded harsh and he didn't mean it that way, but just that Stephen had left before, he could go again.
He watched his father straighten as he heard Derek's words, and he wondered if he'd just interrupted his dad sleeping once he realised he'd had his eyes closed. It was too late to take it back now though, he'd woken the beast. Again he briefly wondered what was in the glass, if it had sent his father to sleep already - maybe it wasn't his first. It hit hard that it didn't take much for him to think the worst of Shaun, but until he'd been proven otherwise, he couldn't help but fall back on the things he knew as opposed to the things he was being told.
"Why does anything need to have happened?" Derek raised a brow, remaining standing as he watched his dad take a drink. "And no, before you ask - there is no alcohol in it." He pressed his lips together, hating that it was in his mind to ask that and the fact that his father had guessed it. "Alright," He responded with a shrug, not denying that he'd been thinking it, that he still didn't trust his father's word. "And because there seems to be an air about you like there's been trouble." He added defensively. Since when was something not wrong? It made more sense to ask than it did to assume it was all fine.
"What's brought you around tonight?" Derek blinked and then remembered himself why he had come home. He raised his right hand as if that answered the question as the white bag swung from his fingertips. "I brought Chinese, you hungry?" He asked, as much as a white flag as his dad was going to get for assuming he was drunk out front.
Derek had been away for a week, which seemed odd for him to say, but it had been needed. He'd been invited to a tattoo convention up in Birmingham by another artist, and he'd jumped at the chance, taking some much needed annual leave from his bouncer work and enjoying life up North for a brief time. It had been weird, getting away from it all. He hadn't realised when Hickstead had begun to feel like home, but apparently it did now, and being away from it felt odd. Like it had crept up on him. Still, it had been refreshing to spend time in a hotel, not worrying about cleaning or feeding himself, going out for dinners and drinks, and spending some days wandering around the exhibits, seeing the artists at work and being a part of the panels.
Now it was back to earth with a bang. He'd stared at the group chat message for a good ten minutes, debating. It sounded harsh, that he didn't instantly jump on the bike and take off. The problem was, there was always something with this family, and it hit that much harder after a week of peace and normal. He'd switched his phone off for a while, and even when it had been on, he'd muted notifications, needing a break from it all. It had been perfect, just what he needed, and then there was this. Back to the shit. He felt guilty for it, he would never be like Keith and abandon his brothers, he just couldn't do it, didn't have the heart to, but it still hurt to have to come back to shit sometimes.
It seemed he was the last to arrive, though he shouldn't have been surprised, he hadn't exactly hurried. Letting the door shut loudly behind him to announce his arrival. There was a chatting chorus of voices, all battling over each other, and he let it buzz around him until he heard 'let dad talk', just as Derek entered the room. He took stock of the faces, ranging from anger to concern and fear, he propped a shoulder against the frame, trademark frown already settling over his face. "Someone care to fill me in?"
Derek had had a long couple of days, and it was with a heavy stomach of guilt that he detoured on his way home to drop by the old homestead. It was always an odd mix of feelings when he headed down the road, a strange mixture of anxiety, that churning sick feeling, and worry and guilt - what had happened since he had last dropped in, or what hadn't happened. Guilt he hadn't popped by sooner, anxiety because he didn't really want to be there, it made him feel on edge. He brought with him Chinese food, there wouldn't be quite enough for everyone - feeding the five thousand took a lot of money and a lot of Chinese - but it was something, a tasty treat for the taste buds and all that.
His foot steps slowed as he saw the figure on the front porch, frowning slightly until he figured out which figure it was. Then he acknowledged the state of him and his head tilted curiously. Something was up, he could see it - feel it - the second he stepped onto the property. That wasn't unusual, but some days were better than others, sometimes the atmosphere wasn't so heavy with dread and gloom. His brow furrowed as he paused in front of the slumped figure of his father, a brief glance to the drink in his hand and wondering if he were to sniff it, whether it would contain alcohol. He dismissed the thought - not his problem. "What's happened?" He asked, because clearly something had and there was no point beating around the bush.
He caught Shaun's nod, but there was nothing more to be said about it on his part. He wasn't ready to say anything further. He didn't want to start an argument about all of it, he'd come in good faith to give him a hand, and he had to admit his dad did seem sober for a change, did seem with it well enough, but one day of it didn't make up for years of alcohol abuse, of drunken yelling and clobbers around the head. His ears still rang from the memory of them.
"And I interrupted your down time," Derek gave another sigh at that and glanced at his father. "That wasn't what I was saying." And it wasn't. He hadn't meant it in that way at least. Maybe it had come out that way though. It wasn't intentional but it was hard sometimes, with their fractured relationship, for things not to come out wrong or sound like an accusation or the beginning of an argument. He wondered if it would always be that way of if one day, it would actually sound genuine.
"Just tidying up as best I can, Get dinner going, washing done, get things packed away... I only have one more thing to ask - when you get a moment, tally together the money you spent on food and the like so I can pay you back. I know money isn't everything, and it doesn't fix stuff, but I know I put all of you in a bad spot - horrible spot. It won't fix things, it won't make things better, but I want to repay you and your brothers for doing what I should've been doing." He was quiet for a moment, not wanting anything he said to come out sour or patronising. He glanced at his dad, a dad that was trying, and shook his head. "I can't do that." and he wouldn't anyway. "It's done now, I don't want the money back for it. Even if I could tally it up." it wasn't as simple as one or two shops, it would be way too complicated to go back over the last few months and work it all out. He didn't have the energy.
Derek had had a long day. One of those dreadfully long days that made it hard to want to do anything more at the end of it than just go straight to bed, still clothed and all. He'd worked the graveyard shift as a doorman, but then gone to the gym instead of bed as he had an early 8am tattoo appointment that would take most of the day. Some people would have chosen sleep, but Derek knew sometimes it was better to soldier on and sleep when he was dead. Okay bit dramatic, but to at least sleep after the day rather than have two hours and be groggy. He had been downing coffee so fast he felt it would have been easy just to inject straight to the vein, but it had worked. Somehow he'd managed to finish the tattoo to his usual high standard of work and the client was pleased. But the long day and the hard concentration had taken a lot out of him.
He'd attempted to stay at the parlor and get some concept sketches done for his newest client who was due to get her ink completed next month but everything he'd tried had been sloppy and not to his liking. In the end he'd given up, swinging by Starbucks on his way home to grab yet another coffee and a quick bite to eat. There was no chance he'd be making dinner when he got back. He'd just about managed to wolf down the sandwich and get in the shower before crashing on the sofa with the TV blaring. His own fault, he'd thought that he should try and make it a couple more hours before bed but his brain had had other ideas.
He woke to the pounding of the door, Netflix having paused mid series to ask if he wanted to continue, his phone left uncharged on the table had now died, completely disoriented as to what time it was or where he was for a moment. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, groaning at the crick in his neck, a hand moving to rub at the tension sat there. Stupid. He should have just gone to bed. At first he thought he'd imagined the banging but when it came again he frowned, sleep immediately forgotten. It was late enough for it to be dark, which meant it was too late for someone to be knocking at his door. Especially like that. Covering a yawn, he checked he'd at least remembered to put joggers and a shirt on before he opened the door. "Crev?" confusion at first, until he looked the boy over and saw the bare feet, the state of undress and the wild look in his eyes. "What's happened?" Because something had always happened.
Derek had had a long couple of weeks. He'd taken on some extra shifts at the club, as they'd been so desperate for the help. Things had picked up with the beginning of a new university year and all that, the fresh blood had been fast to hit the town in an attempt to paint it red. He didn't mind all that much, though the teenage behaviour did start to wear in him quite fast after a heavy night, it wasn't as if the adult behaved any better. If anything they could often be worse. At least when you threatened the youngsters they tended to give you a sheepish look and buck up their ideas a little. It wasn't just his bouncer role that had been busy though, he'd had an influx of clients, a couple of those with quite a demand for large and complex pieces of art. In his spare time when he should have been sleeping, he'd been sketching instead. Designing and then sometimes having to redesign the tattoo's as the individuals they were for requested changes or adjustments. Some of them had been pickier than his usual lot too, which hadn't helped with his lack of spare time. At least his bank account would feel a little more fed than usual. Which would definitely help when it came to the expense of Christmas with a lot of siblings.
He felt a twinge of guilt, as always, that he hadn't been back to the family house recently because of his work. He still made an attempt to drop in when he could to least make sure there was some knd of decent food in the fridge, that the water was still running, and the electrics hadn't been switched off. If he couldn't, he'd at least text the runts to check in, but his phone had been silent from familial messages and that did worry him a little. Perhaps it shouldn't. There was the saying that no news was good news after all. Still, he made a quiet vow to himself as he packed the car up with his monthly food shop that he'd pop by tomorrow to see everyone was okay.
It wasn't long before Derek was on his way home. Heavy traffic and a road closure sent him a different way home to the usual, which found him driving closer to the house than he had anticipated, and when he caught sight of a familiar figure standing in the middle of the pavement, despite the gloom of the day, he frowned. He dialed down the sound of his music and made a split second decision to pull over to the side of the road, winding down his passenger window and leaning across the seats so he could shout his brother's name and hopefully be heard. "Nick?! What are you doing!"
At first he could see his brother was confused, but before he could answer, Stephen seemed to work it out. "Ah no. I got a design done in London," Derek's brows lowered a little in understanding and gave a small nod. "Granted, I don't know how to add to it. So that's on me. But I'll have to get it figured out so I can have your work on my body as well." Derek chuckled at that and mulled it over. "If you had any concept at all I could probably put some ideas together. And for you, I'll even give you discount." His lips turned up at one corner. It was funny, you probably wouldn't have pegged Derek as an artist, but looks can be deceiving and he enjoyed getting into his art. Especially when he was given some free rein to really let the creativity fly. Of course it helped to know what someone might or might not like but he could work with whatever he was given.
Derek leaned in a little, conspiratorially. "But I mean, if you hadn't been here, I would have had to talk to strangers...and man, that is a lot of work and patience for me still." He gave an understanding nod and a knowing look. "Yeah, that I get." it might be a job requirement for him but he still didn't find it easy. He had a work face persona but that took effort and by the end of the day or night it became harder and harder to maintain. It was why he usually stuck to being strong and silent, less need to have to make conversation. "It's okay. You can admit that I'm your favorite brother and that's why I get the bear hugs. I won't tell anyone else." Derek rolled his eyes at the comment and fixed his brother with a look. "No doubt you've got some kind of recording device on so you could use it as blackmail material. I'm saying nothing." Not that he actually thought that but the boys had been known to roughhouse and pull tricks or pranks on each other over the years. As boys tended to do. Especially with age gaps, sometimes the younger one's annoyed the older ones a little too much.
The initial silence did not help matters as Derek began to jump from one conclusion to another in rapid succession. "What? No. Dad didn't ask me. Honestly, I'm not even sure if Dad realizes I'm in the house." Well that wasn't exactly great to hear either and if possible, his scowl darkened. Not that he should be surprised. His dad rarely knew what day of the week it was let alone what family members were home safe and who wasn't. The sigh however, did not help matters. "I did it to help out. After seeing Dad during the funeral and Mav in the hospital. I don't know...didn't seem right to sit there over in Oxford while it's chaos here. Mav shouldn't have to be emptying his savings to support dad and the others." Derek shook his head. "You don't come back when you've gotten out. It's not as if we've always all been in it together. " It wasn't meant as a dig but some family helped more than others. He didn't see why Stephen should return when he'd managed to get himself a good life going. "No he shouldn't but then why does that make you think you should throw your life away to come back and be a deadbeat? Dad surely hadn't inspired you to live his life. Go back, Stephen. You don't belong here."
The grin made Derek chuckle a little, it sounded somewhat relieved and Derek had to wonder if he had changed that much since they'd last seen each other - did he look like he'd had a face transplant for Stephen not to recognise him from the off? "Thank god. I was beginning to regret my life choices coming in here." A raise of an eyebrow at that, the brow automatically furrowing a little as was his usual expression. Even when he was friendly, it tended to happen - he had heard the term 'resting bitch face' before, his seemed to be in a state of perpetual frowny face. Not that he ever appreciated people pointing it out to him. "Because it's so bad being seen in a tattoo shop?" He was joking anyway, but he couldn't help but raze him a little. "Which design did you pick out, or have you got one to show me?" He added, as if this was the reason his brother had come; he somehow doubted it but it was amusing to call out his bluff.
"When did you become a hugger?" Derek let out a grunt for a response and released his brother, the frown returning in full force, accompanied now by a shrug. "Been a while. Don't panic, I'll hold back from doing it again." True, they were not a touchy feely kind of family, but Derek had always had a decent brotherly kinship with Stephen and he'd missed the bugger. Occasionally it was known to happen that Derek showed feelings other than grumpiness or annoyance. The big bear was a softie deep down, to those that knew him truly well. "I dropped out of Oxford. I came home to help Dad. You. Maverick. Everyone really." Well that was fast - from good to shit within three seconds. Derek should have known. Nothing decent ever lasted in their family. His frown became a scowl and he shook his head, folding his arms. "Please tell me this is a very early April fool's joke..." His voice lowered slightly, tones of frustration coming through in a slight growl. "I am going to continue my studies here and live at home." Derek shook his head in disbelief. "Did dad put you up to this? Or one of the others? This is absurd. It can't be too late to take your place back, I'll ring them myself." No way was this happening. Stephen had gotten out, he'd done well for himself. He couldn't throw it all away for this bullshit.
He caught the smile and made the -correct- assumption that she agreed. Some people made assumptions about him; that he was too serious for fun, too grumpy to know how to entertain himself let alone other people. He did though, he had a sweeter side between the rough and tough exterior - the walls of concrete and iron. He didn't show it often, it took a lot to weedle it out of him, but that was fair enough in his opinion. It meant when Derek laughed, it was always genuine, or when he smiled it was because he wanted to, not because it was put on to make someone feel better. He couldn't help having a bitter and sour outlook on the world, given his history, but he did have surprisingly sweet dreams for the future. "oh i have no doubt, now that handsy has been put in his place." Derek watched her glance into the crowd and looked out again, spotting the guy with a darkening of his expression; he was good at finding people, he had to be in order to do his job well. "He won't bother you again," He promised - because one single peep out of the fool, even if it was to someone else, Derek would know and the kid would be out of his ass because he could even spell the word.
Derek could feel her eyes on him, and he hid the smirk that threatened, keeping his own gaze toward the bartenders instead, allowing her to take in her fill. He wasn't generally into mixing pleasure with work, he was very good at separating the flirtatious from his job at the door - because it happened surprisingly frequently. He was always polite with it, and friendly enough; but firm. Work was work, not play. He did like to destress every now and then, have a flirt with someone, maybe more than if the mood hit him, but rarely did he do that at the place he worked, and in all honesty, he preferred a relationship to a one nighter. But what did it hurt for his ego to be stroked a little by a gorgeous woman.
He let her ask for the drinks, not wanting to take over considering she had asked him. Her leg movement drew the eye, as she knew it would, and he couldn't help himself but play fool to the damn trick, drinking in the sleek skin of her thigh. Damn, women knew how to play it. He quickly looked away, he wasn't the kind of guy to oogle - unlike some, he liked to talk to a woman's face. "roxy wood." Another smile as he nodded, committing the name to memory. "Nice to meet you Roxy, I'm Derek." He didn't feel the need to tack on his surname for now - something told him she was used to saying her full name however. "Are you a business woman?" He asked, because that shark-like confidence had to come from somewhere.
Derek saw Shaun nod, half expecting a response from the words and automatically tensing - but in his father's defense nothing came; perhaps for once he had learned his lesson that making comments would end in arguments. It could be about anything too, but Derek's temper was as quick and hot as the rest of the families when it came to it, and it didn't take much to rub a nerve and spark the flames. But, he still loved his dad, even with all those complicated feelings in between. "I know." Derek glanced at him, but this time made no further comment - no need to say anything further, the message had been received. Maybe if Shaun proved to him that this wasn't all bullshit, maybe if he got his shit together and gave a crap again, he might believe it, he might relax a little. Perhaps a tiny bridge could be mended to begin to cover the chasm between them.
"Got any other plans for the rest of your day?" Derek hesitated in the doorway, watching his father go fishing for tools, wondering what he was up to now. He sighed and shrugged, "I just finished a shift so was just going to chill out for a bit until tonight's work." It was rare for Derek to have a half day off, let alone a full one, but that was his choice. He wanted to be able to afford his lot in life, he was saving hard for a house, and paying rent on the flat hurt his bank balance enough that the second job caught up with it and meant he could keep saving as he did. In all honesty he would probably have fixed himself some early dinner, had a beer and potentially even a nap so that he could get through his shift and not crash before the end of it. "And you?"